The Girl Who Can't Be Touched
by Plague's Vengeance
Summary: Izora just wanted to make it through her last two years at Hogwarts quietly. She wasn't looking to draw attention to herself and she certainly wasn't interested in drawing THEIR attention. But of course the Fates weren't on her side and now she had to figure out a way to keep not only the Marauders but Lily Evans from getting too close. All she could think was, "Why me?" (RL/OC)
1. Chapter 1: The Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer for the _WHOLE_ story: I own _nothing_ that you may recognize, which includes but is not limited to J.K. Rowling's characters, Hogwarts, etcetera. I do however own _all _original characters unless expressly stated otherwise.**

**Rated T for mild language, mild sexual innuendos (it's a story that features several teenage boys, what do you expect?), and possible, mildly violent actions. You have been warned.**

* * *

Chapter One: Platform 9¾ and the Hogwarts Express

_Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, King's Cross Station, London, England;  
1__st __of September 1976_

–––––

Noise. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was absolutely full of it. Loud, boisterous, exuberant, and excessively, annoyingly, _loud_.

Stepping through the magical barrier that separated the wizard's platform from the Muggle train station, onto Platform 9¾ was like walking into a wall of sound. Or getting a boxed 'round the ears with an air-fist. The noise level was that obnoxious.

It was understandable really, considering the level of activity going on. People, students and non-students alike, were bustling around with luggage trolleys stacked high with trunks and the occasional animal carrier or owl cage (the animals inside adding more than their own fair share of noise to the commotion being made by the humans), all chattering away excitedly or morosely about the upcoming school year.

Suffice to say, the noise could be a tad overwhelming even for those who'd been to the platform many times, but most especially for first-timers.

Luckily, the young woman who'd just stepped through the barrier happened to be one of the former type of visitor. Izora Hallowell was a young witch of seventeen years entering her sixth year at the renowned Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

One would describe Izora as a statuesque beauty with lily-white skin, hair as fair as spun moonlight, and large eyes the color of frosted sea-glass …but that would only be if the person describing her was waxing poetic. In reality, Izora Hallowell was a tall, waifish young woman–she looked as if a stiff breeze could knock her over, all gangly limbs, sharp elbows, and rather knobbly knees–and her complexion was more like that of a pallid ghost than a lily while her hair was a dull shade of white-gold. And those 'large eyes the color of frosted sea-glass'? Well, they _were_ a rather pretty shade of blue-green, but had the misfortune of being a bit too large for her angular, gaunt face and being accentuated by near-permanent dark circles that denoted how little sleep the young woman got.

Moving off to the side to avoid the chaos of the platform with her own luggage cart, Izora observed the bustle; tearful goodbyes between parents and their children, impersonal and dismissive farewells between the more distant and less affectionate wizarding families, and the ever present students who had made the journey to the Hogwarts Express independently, without their family.

With neither of her own parents to see her off, Izora fell into this select category, which didn't bother her overly much–she'd much rather avoid an awkward confrontation with her dear mother, even if that meant her father was also absent.

Pursing her lips, Izora squinted as she tried to search for her friends in the crowd while remaining on the fringes, pushing her luggage cart along while making her way closer to the bright red train with _Hogwarts Express_ embossed in gold on the side. She made it to the baggage car at the end of the Hogwarts Express without finding her two friends and, sighing softly in mild frustration, Izora reluctantly grabbed her school satchel, which tossed over her shoulder, then she grabbed her main trunk with one hand and her small cat carrier with the other and toted them both along with her as she made her way onto the Hogwarts Express.

–––––

Grimacing slightly, Izora dropped down heavily onto the rather ugly blue and green checkered middle seat after wrestling her heavy trunk onto the rack above her head. Her pet carrier was perched on the seat beside her and she took a moment to check on her familiar–a pine marten, or rather the wizarding world's equivalent to one, named Draci. The marten was sleeping peacefully at the back of the carrier, curled up into a tight ball with his face hidden beneath his bushy tail. Izora's thin lips twitched up into an affectionate smile and, after removing her school satchel from the top, she placed the cat carrier on the floor, carefully pushing it underneath her seat. She would take Draci out later, when he woke up.

Izora settled into her seat and pulled her leather satchel into her lap, unbuckling the clasps and flipping it open to retrieve the Muggle book her father had given her yesterday evening. With J.R.R. Tolkien's _The Hobbit_ in her grasp, Izora tucked her satchel under her seat alongside her pet carrier, leaned back in her seat and, after a quick glance at the watch on her wrist to check the time (a quarter 'til eleven o'clock), she cracked the book open and prepared to immerse herself in the adventures of Bilbo Baggins.

"'In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell…'" She trailed off with a smile, her lips moving as she continued to read silently to herself.

Izora was just getting to the part where the wizard in the book was saving a Bilbo and his dwarven companions from a trio of trolls when the shrill, piercing note of the train whistle announced the train's eminent departure from the station. She took a quick peek out the window, watching a moment as students hurried to bid the last goodbyes to their families before boarding the train.

As she observed a young woman with bright red hair and a baby on her hip, fussing over a pair of young men around Izora's own age while another man with equally bright red hair watched in amusement from the side, two young red-haired boys standing next to him, Izora briefly wondered what it would be like to be fussed over like that.

She shook the thought from her head and returned to her book. There was no use thinking about such things; even if her mother would always remain a cold, distant figure, her father did his best to shower her with affection whenever he wasn't busy with his Auror duties.

The train began to move a few minutes later, pulling away from the station with an almost imperceptible lurch, but Izora was much too engrossed in her book to pay the scenery flying by the window much mind. In fact, she was so riveted by the story being woven before her eyes that she didn't even notice when the compartment door slid open.

"I'm telling you, Padfoot, this is the year-Oi! What're you doing here?"

Surprised, Izora gave a soft squeak and jumped in her seat at the loud, masculine voice, jerking her gaze from her book to stare at the quartet of boys standing in the door of the compartment, the deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face almost comical.

"Erm…" Izora faltered, her brows furrowing even as her eyes remained impossibly large. Her book fell from suddenly limp fingers, tumbling from her lap to the floor with a soft _thump_. "H-hello?"

Suddenly, the young man standing beside the bespectacled lad that had startled Izora smiled charmingly, his grey eyes gleaming with mischief as he all but swept into the compartment, snatching up Izora's book, all before she could so much as bat an eyelash.

"Hello, lovely." He presented the book to her grandly, the gesture disturbingly courtly in nature. "I believe you dropped this."

Izora blinked owlishly at him, lips parted slightly in shock as she stared into the young man's stormy gray eyes. _Wicked eyes_, she thought distantly as she tentatively took the book from him, _That's what Ma Siobhán calls eyes like his…_

Someone cleared their throat and Izora jumped again and looked away from the smug-looking young man with the wicked eyes. Mortified embarrassment filled her and turned her pallid face an intense shade of crimson as she found herself under the amused and knowing regard of the other three boys. Still embarrassed, and feeling a little more than resentful at the looks the three boys were giving her, Izora's lips turned down in a faint, reproachful frown.

"C-can I h-help you?" She asked in her stuttery, nervous way, probably more sharply than was polite, but she was still rather embarrassed at being caught ogling the young man still standing in front of her. She grimaced slightly when she heard her own voice, husky with a slight rasp from lack of adequate use.

The bespectacled boy quirked a brow and exchanged a smirking glance with his grey-eyed companion, before stepping further into the room. Izora eyed him, and his wicked eyed friend, with some suspicion as they both dropped down into the seats on either side of her after placing their trunks in the rack above her head where her own trunk was placed while their two companions followed suit on the other side of the compartment, the tallest taking the seat directly across from her when he was finished.

"Nope," The bespectacled boy replied cheerfully, making himself comfortable in the seat on her left, the one closest to the window. "Just needed a place to sit."

Izora turned slightly towards him with a small frown, more than a little perturbed that she couldn't place who exactly the four boys were even though they looked exceedingly familiar. She squinted slightly, scrutinizing him intently from behind the curtain of hair; when he'd been standing, he hadn't been the tallest or the shortest of the quartet and he had a muscular yet wiry build, untidy black hair and hazel eyes that gleamed with mischief and cheer, despite being hidden behind a pair of round spectacles.

He noticed her scrutiny and flashed a smile at her, revealing even, white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. Izora blinked, abruptly realizing where she'd seen him before, and almost let slip a most unladylike swear that would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap if her best friend's mother heard her.

James Potter was sitting in a compartment with her. Which meant…Izora took a quick look around at the other three boys, her heart sinking all the way to her toes when she recognized each of them as Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, the quartet known as the Marauders.

Of all the times for her rotten luck to kick in, it had to be now. Izora tried not to hyperventilate.

Now, Izora wasn't like most of the girls her age, which fawned over the four boys currently staring at her with varying degrees of amusement–or bemused concern in Remus Lupin's case. In fact, she would very much rather avoid any and all contact with the so-called Marauders at all costs, for the simple fact that they were pretty much renowned throughout the whole of Hogwarts. And Izora was very much _not_, a fact that she would very much like not to change, thank you very much!

Oh Merlin, she thought as a deep-rooted anxiety froze her in place, she had to get away as far away from them as she could. She stared blankly in front of her, very much resembling a petrified rabbit with eyes as large as saucers and her already pale face turning an even more ghostly shade.

Izora was about five seconds away from a full blown panic attack when a pair of fingers snapped in front of her face, startling her enough that she jumped and recoiled, turning to look at the boy sitting to her right with huge blue-green eyes.

"Y-yes?" She all but squeaked, a blush scorching across her cheeks a second later at the undignified sound.

"Alright there, love?" Sirius Black questioned, his lips twisted in a wickedly smug smirk.

As of she'd had a bucket of ice water dumped or the _aquamenti _spell cast on her, Izora's almost-panic attack was replaced with the urge to smack that smug, self-satisfied look off of Sirius Black's roguishly handsome face with a Beater's bat.

She frowned and with as much dignity as she could muster, Izora stuttered out a reply. "I-I'm f-fine."

"You sure?" This time it was James Potter that asked, his expression only mildly less insufferable than his partner-in-crime. He grinned cheekily at her, "You look a bit peaky still."

"Understandable, really." Sirius added, grinning at Izora just as cheekily as James had when she glanced at him. "We _are_ rather famous, mate. Not surprising the lady was overwhelmed by our awesome presence."

"True, true."

Izora's felt her eyebrow twitch and she gritted her teeth, glaring down at the cover of _The Hobbit_ which she held in white-knuckled grip. Oh how she wished to smack them both 'round the head with said book, if for no other reason than to see if it would pop their oversized egos. Honestly how they manage to fit through doors with such large heads was beyond Izora.

She took a deep, near silent breath to fortify herself and ended up accidentally catching the eye of Remus Lupin, the Marauder known for being the most sensible of the quartet–unsurprising considering he_ was_ a Prefect. He smiled slightly at her, rolling his eyes in playful exasperation as James and Sirius continued to inflate their own egos over her head. Izora felt her cheeks heat up slightly and she quickly looked back down at her book, intent on studiously ignoring the four boys currently trespassing on her solitude.

Oh how she wished she'd actually gone searching for her best friends Dmitri and Galen instead of settling in the first empty compartment she'd found. She could have avoided all of this then.

"So!" James exclaimed loudly, apparently no longer interested in boosting his own ego with Sirius, and he shifted in his seat to look curiously at Izora, "Who the bloody hell are you anyway?"

"James." Remus chided reproachfully, his voice very raspy and husky compared to James and Sirius' smoother voices. It was rather like gravel-over-velvet in Izora's mind.

"Sorry, Mum." James rolled his eyes and made a face at his taller friend, who gave him a _look_. James merely rolled his eyes again and looked back at Izora expectantly, "Well?"

"I-" Izora faltered and looked anywhere but at the four young men currently staring at her. It felt like their gazes were burning holes in her skin to her and she shied away, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat and shifting so her hair hid her face. After a few more seconds of uncomfortable–on her part at least–silence, Izora cleared her throat and stuttered out her name.

"I-Izora H-H-Hallowell..."

"It's nice to meet you." Remus replied gently, offering her a kind smile when she shyly glanced at him through her hair. "I'm Remus Lupin."

"Sirius Black." Sirius cut in just as Remus went to introduce the other three. He grinned charmingly and scooped up one of her fidgeting hands. He quirked a brow at the glove she wore, but still dropped a kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes locked with hers. "At your service, dove."

Izora had stiffened the minute Sirius had touched her hand and her face went completely blank the second his lips touched the back of her hand. She could feel the heat of his breath through the glove she wore and it made her skin prickle uncomfortably, as if she were being pricked by a hundred red-hot needles. The familiar pin-prick of pain—her peculiar gift, or rather curse, making itself known—shot through her skull and she grimaced against the discomfort, forcing away the haze that had started to fog her mind. *Even with her gloves protecting her skin from his touch, her psychometry was raring to thrust anything and everything about Sirius Black into her mind.

That was most definitely _not_ something she wanted.

A pointed clearing of the throat, snapped Izora out of her stupor and she jerked her hand out of Sirius's like his hand was on fire, the haze dissipating as soon as her hand was free. She grasped her book tightly in her hands and practically curled in on herself, head bowed and shoulders protectively. She just barely resisted the urge to pull her knees up to her chest and completely curl into a little ball on the seat, desperately wanting to be anywhere but where she currently was; surrounded by four unfamiliar boys, who only seemed to succeed in making her increasingly uncomfortable and anxious the longer she was in their presence.

"Erm…right then." James drawled rather awkwardly, running a hand through his already mussed hair and exchanging a confused glance with his best friends before introducing himself, "I'm James Potter." He nodded towards the pudgy boy sitting beside Remus, "That's Peter Pettigrew."

"Hi." Peter squeaked nervously, his watery blue eyes flickering between the floor and Izora's still hunched figure.

Izora gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement to each young man but didn't look up from studiously staring at the dark green cover, her eyes tracing over the intricate red and gold gilt runic inscription around the periphery. The compartment filled with awkward silence, but Izora didn't care in the least; she was already supremely uncomfortable after all, a little more awkwardness wouldn't bother her. Besides, it served those four idiot boys right for making her uncomfortable in the first place.

But of course, awkward silences–or any kind of silences really–didn't sit well with James Potter and he cleared his throat after sharing a look with Sirius.

"So," He said with forced cheer, grinning genuinely when Izora glanced at him, "What year are you in? You're a bit too tall for a first year…"

"Maybe she's part Giant." Peter Pettigrew suggested, speaking up for the first time since James had introduced him earlier. "Like Hagrid."

"Don't be ridiculous, Wormy." Sirius rolled his eyes with a small scoff, then he smiled at Izora charmingly, "She's much too pretty to be part Giant."

"'Ey now, Pads, don't be rude. I'm sure Hagrid's mother was a very _lovely_ Giantess." James joked, waggling his eyebrows and grinning. "She had to have been for Mr. Hagrid to get on with her."

Izora jumped when Sirius tossed his head back and let out a loud bark of laughter.

"Too right, Prongs, mate." The grey-eyed mischief maker replied, waggling his own eyebrows now. "I bet she was just _lovely_."

Izora wrinkled her nose as the two boys on either side of her continued making ribald jokes about how _lovely_ Giantesses must be. She caught Remus's eye and he rolled his eyes again, sighing in a deprecating way and rolling his shoulders back in a 'yes they're idiots, what can you do?' type of gesture. Izora smiled weakly in response, straightening a little from her hunched position as she got the tiniest bit comfortable in the four young men's presence.

The little bit of comfortableness she felt disappeared like smoke in the wind when James abruptly cried out and pointed a finger in her face. Izora blanched and stared at the digit hovering a few centimeters from her nose, her eyes wide and going slightly cross-eyed.

"Oi! Did you see that, Pads?" The bespectacled young man demanded loudly over Izora's head, no longer pointing his finger in her face but gesturing rather exuberantly instead. Izora actually had to duck her head, 'lest he hit her in the face. "She got us all distracted talking about the lovely attributes of Giantesses instead of telling us what year she's in!"

"Oh-ho," Sirius chortled and shook his finger at her, "Clever, very clever. But you can't trick us. We're the Marauders, dove! The Kings of Pranks, Mischief, and Trickery!"

Izora gave him and James flabbergasted look, her mouth hanging open slightly in what was no doubt a rather unattractive way, her eyes the size of saucers, something they seemed to be doing quite often in the presence of the four young men.

"I-I wasn't…T-that's n-not...I d-d-didn't…Urk!" She made a strangled noise and closed her eyes, bringing her book up to cover her flaming face. These two were going to drive her mad! They were completely and utter ridiculous! And imbecilic and completely off their rocks, and…and oh, how she wished she could just disappear and not have to deal with them having a laugh at her expense anymore…

She stood up abruptly, silencing James and Sirius' uproarious laughter, Peter's nervous chuckles, and Remus' exasperated rebukes. James and Sirius watched her curiously, Sirius with a little smirk tugging at the corner of his pretty mouth while his grey eyes gleamed wickedly. Izora kept her face turned away from them, hidden behind her hair as she snatched up her school satchel (which had a set of her school robes packed inside), and tossed the strap over her shoulder.

"I-I'm g-going to g-go c-ch-change!" Izora announced, rather pointlessly, but with as much dignity as she could muster, despite her perpetual stutter. And without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and promptly fled from the compartment, very nearly slamming the sliding door shut in her haste.

–––––

James looked away from the door Izora had just fled out of and tilted his head curiously as he asked the compartment at large. "Was it something we said?"

"'Dunno, mate." Sirius scratched the side of his head in perplexedly, still staring at the compartment door then he shrugged.

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head, sighing in a deprecating manner. He dearly loved James and Sirius–they were practically his brothers, after all–but they could be so utterly _thick_ at times. Remus had dealt with brick walls with more common sense than those two. And Peter really didn't help the situation, acting as if everything Sirius and James did was gospel. It could be maddening.

"Honestly," Remus muttered as he retrieved his satchel, which contained his school uniform, from under his seat. "You two can be thicker than a troll."

"Oi!"

"Hey!"

Remus stopped rummaging through his satchel to pointedly roll his eyes at his two best mates then went back to looking for his uniform, moving aside several books he'd packed for the train ride. Grumbling to each other, James and Sirius did the same while Peter followed suit a second later. A few moments later, the four best friends and housemates were changing into their uniforms.

Halfway through pulling his jumper over his head, James suddenly swore and jerked the article of clothing off, whipping around to face Sirius, who had just pulled off his own shirt.

"She never told us what year she was in, Pads!" James waved his shirt around to gesticulate his upset over this revelation. "Or her house for that matter!"

"You're right, Prongs." Sirius frowned, looking just as offended as James did in that moment. "How rude!

Remus felt that if he rolled his eyes any harder, they'd pop right out of his head and do a jig. "You never asked her what house she was in." Remus pointed out as he fastened his belt around his waist after pulling on his black trousers and buttoning them.

Sirius and James opened their mouths to retort, closed them a second later, and glanced at each other with furrowed brows.

"Well..." Sirius said slowly as he finished buttoning the white, collared shirt students had to wear. "He's not wrong."

If he didn't know James as well as he did, Remus would have called the expression on his face a pout, but alas, Remus _did_ know James, quite well in fact and he knew that if even eluded that his Quidditch-playing best friend was capable of pouting, he'd end up with neon pink hair for a week. Shaking his head and sighing, Remus finished dressing, slipping on his black school robes before taking a seat once again. He picked up his satchel and placed it on his lap, rummaging through it in search of his Prefect badge while distractedly listening to James and Sirius speculate on which house Izora Hallowell was in, Peter chiming in occasionally.

"She's definitely Hufflepuff." Sirius said with a decisive nod after refuting Peter's suggestion of the interesting young woman being in Ravenclaw. He dropped back down in his seat and propped his feet up on the seat across from him, folding his hands on his stomach and smirking—it was more of a leer really—cockily. "I've shagged enough of them to recognize Hufflepuff birds even without their robes."

"They're always so stuttery and nervous at first, but then…" He trailed off and waggled his eyebrows pointedly, growling playfully.

Peter squeaked, going bright red, and Sirius and James erupted into loud laughter at his expense while Remus just rolled his eyes at his friends, grimacing in distaste. While he had certainly become used to Sirius' boasting when it came to his more…carnal past times, Remus had grown to find his friend's bragging aggravating.

Remus sighed and shook his head, pulling a book out of his bag while blocking out the sounds of Sirius and James ribbing Peter for blushing as they talked about past conquests. Not even an hour into the seven hour train ride and Remus was already looking forward to the Prefect meeting and his rounds, just to get away from his three friends for a little bit. He loved his friends, but sometimes they drove him mad.

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Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, Izora kept her head down as she made her way to the loo at the end of the train car. Her mind was restless, thoughts whirling about like a maelstrom of disjointed words, images, and emotions. Not that such a predicament was anything new to her; her mind was very much a fragmented, disorderly labyrinth ninety percent of the time.

But it made sense to her, at least…well usually it did. There were times, like right now for instance, where her mind was nothing more than a nonsensical mess to her. She hated moments like that. Hated that she didn't have even a semblance of control over her own thoughts, chaotic though they may be. And right now, she really disliked the Marauders for causing her current mental disarray. Her thoughts ranged from how pretty Sirius Black's eyes were, to wondering if James Potter had ever even _heard_ of a hair brush, to the curious case of how Peter Pettigrew had become friends with such an outgoing set of boys, to the even more curious case of _why_ _Remus Lupin looked so world-weary and haggard for one so young_. That particular thought circulated through her head more often than any other. It was starting to become ridiculous.

Izora shook her head, attempting to dispel her scattered thoughts, her expression skewing with frustration as her mind continued to run itself in complicated circles revolving around the Marauders.

"Oh sweet Morgana." She muttered the familiar, if little used oath, under her breath and she knocked on the wooden door of the loo with some impatience. When there was no response after several moments, Izora shoved the sliding door open and stepped into the small water closet, almost but not quite slamming the door shut behind her and locking it with probably more aggression than was strictly necessary.

Izora dropped her satchel to the ground and turned towards the sink, gripping the edges so hard the bones of her knuckles stood out. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, lips moving faintly as she silently counted to twenty, first in English then in Romanian—a grounding technique she'd been using ever since second year. Slowly, gradually, the mental whirlwind calmed to a more manageable chaos and Izora let out a sigh of relief*. Her thoughts still buzzed, but they were more subdued than the hoard of hyperactive Cornish Pixies they had been before. Her thoughts were often like that, flitting about the multi-tiered labyrinth she'd constructed in her head*.

The blonde lifted her head and regarded her reflection in the grubby, circular mirror above the sink; an almost skeletal, wraith of a girl stared back at her. Scrutinizing her gaunt face, Izora reached up and prodded at the dark smudges under her left eye then ran her gloved fingertips over hollowed cheek. How lovely, she looked like death warmed over.

"Wonderful, I look like a corpse." Izora grumbled, letting her hand drop back to the sink edge with a quiet sigh of consternation. "Galen is going to lynch me when he sees me."

Her eager mind* thrust a rather lovely visual to go along with the sentiment and Izora pulled a face, turning away from the mirror and snatching her satchel up from the ground. She plopped the worn leather shoulder-bag on the sink, unclasped it, and flipped it open. The undetectable extension charm placed on the satchel had Izora rummaging inside it for several minutes before she finally found her neatly folded uniform and school robes. She pulled her wand from the pocket of her peacoat and set it aside then began to disrobe.

"_Chip the glasses and crack the plates! Blunt the knives and bend the forks! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_ Izora murmured the poem from _The Hobbit_ quietly to herself—further grounding her mind, carefully folding each article of clothing she removed and placing it inside her satchel until she was only in her undergarments and her socks.

Wiggling her toes, Izora grabbed her black skirt and squirmed into it, smoothing it down before grabbing her black tights from the neat pile resting beside her satchel on the sink.

"Hmm…" Izora hummed, scrunching her nose up as she looked around the small water closet, her eyes settling on the toilet. She pulled a face and, with a reluctant sigh, she used her wand to close the lid then sat down stiffly. She made sure her skirt kept the bare skin of her thighs from touching the lid. She continued to idly hum to _That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates!_ to herself as she carefully pulled on her tights. It was a ridiculous, extremely amusing poem and it kept her mind occupied, which was lovely.

"_Smash the bottles and burn the corks! Cut the cloth and tread the fat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor!"_

She slipped her Mary-Janes on her feet after adjusting her stockings then she stood up, wrangling herself into the camisole she wore under her button-up, which she slipped on next and tucked into her skirt after buttoning it up. _"Leave the bones on the mat! Splash the wine on every door! Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl; Pound them up with a thumping pole! And when you're fini-"_

The sound of someone wrapping their fist against the wooden door of the loo cut Izora off and she froze halfway through pulling her gray jumper-vest over her head.

"Hello?" An impatient voice demanded from the other side of the door, "Do hurry up in there. Other people who need to use the loo!"

Squeaking and blushing furiously, Izora hurriedly yanked her vest down all the way, snatched up her robe, tossed her satchel strap over her head, grabbed her wand and shoved it into her skirt pocket. Another round of impatient knocking sent her scurrying to unlock and open the door to the loo, throwing the sliding door open with probably a little more force then strictly necessary.

Izora's pallid face flushed red with embarrassment when the young, brunette woman, standing with her arms crossed and a hip cocked to the side, quirked a brow and sneered at her.

"Took you bloody long enough."

Izora ducked her head and shuffled out of the washroom, skirting around the other young woman, practically cementing herself to the wall to avoid any contact with the brunette. Izora heard the door to the loo slide shut as she hurried down hall, heading back to her compartment. She'd forgotten about the awaited her in the compartment while she'd been getting dressed, her mind much more focused on putting on her clothes and remembering the words to Tolkien's poem.

Unfortunately it all came rushing back when she slid the compartment door opened and was met with four pairs of eyes turning to stare at her.

"She's a bloody Gryffindor!"

Izora flinched at James loud exclamation of disbelief, her brow furrowing at the absolutely gobsmacked expression he wore. The bespectacled boy shoved Sirius, who looked positively gleeful as he looked her up and down.

"She…what…how…Pads!" James smacked Sirius, who looked positively gleeful as he looked her up and down. He gestured wildly in Izora's direction when Sirius glanced at him. "Gryffindor, Pads! Bloody Gryffindor!"

"I can see that, mate." Sirius replied, still sounding delighted at this unforeseen turn of events, and his gaze returned to Izora.

His eyes lingered on her legs and Izora shifted uncomfortable, her hands tightening around the satchel of her school bag. His gaze flicked up to meet hers and smiled wickedly. The blood rushed to her face so fast, Izora thought she was going to faint. Never ever in her teenaged life had a guy looked at her the way Sirius bleeding Black was currently was. He looked as if he wanted to eat her and Izora felt quite naked under his gaze, something she didn't enjoy.

Not. One. Bit.

"Why don't you sit down, dove?" Sirius cajoled, patting the open seat between him and James with a charming smile.

_Will you step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly._ Izora thought quite hysterically, her mind conjuring a rather vivid image Sirius Black as a spider trying to devour the poor little fly that was herself. Face still burning with embarrassment and discomfort, Izora cagily edged her way back to her seat, sliding the compartment door behind her.

Sirius's grin widened and he beckoned her closer. Izora bit back a frown and kept her eyes firmly on her shoes instead of meeting his flirtatious gaze, even though she could feel his eyes boring into her. It was very uncomfortable and anxiety churned in her stomach, tightening it in knots. She chanced a glance to her right and nearly tripped over her own feet; Remus Lupin was staring at his friend with annoyance etched all over his haggard, scarred face, golden-brown eyes frustrated. His eyes flickered to her, softened, and he offered her a small smile.

Izora swallowed thickly and looked away, stare returning to her shoes, as she timidly sat down in the seat between Sirius and James. She kept her satchel in her lap, holding it tightly to her practically like a shield. Sirius was still staring at her and Izora felt the sudden urge to poke him in the eye with her wand just to get him to stop _bloody staring at her!_

Swallowing thickly, Izora slowly turned her head in Sirius' direction, focusing her eyes on his nose instead of meeting his eyes. "C-can I-I-I h-he-help y-you?"

"Actually, you can." Sirius replied with a smirk and he leaned forward, his voice becoming a low, intimate whisper. "Why don't you tell me what year you're in, dove?"

He reached out and twirled a strand of her pale blonde hair around his calloused finger. In a rush of righteous indignation, Izora reared back and slapped his hand away from her, her nervous expression morphing into anger.

"Don't touch me!" Izora barked crossly, blue-green eyes glacial and cheeks flushed with outrage instead of mortification.

Sirius straightened in surprise, his brows shooting up to nearly his hairline as he regarded the young woman currently glaring at him with utmost contempt. Peter squeaked and the quiet conversation James and Remus had been engaged in petered out and the three looked towards Sirius and Izora curiously, or in Peter's case anxiously.

"Er…"James raised his brows and looked between Izora and Sirius, "Alright then, you two?"

Izora's eyes flickered towards the other three young men and she felt a wave of nervous embarrassment surge through her, snuffing out her feminine fury as if it had never been. She huddled into her seat, pressing her back against her seat and wishing it would just swallow her up.

James looked over her head at Sirius questioningly, "Pads?"

"Alright, Prongs." Sirius replied at last, still looking contemplatively at Izora with his head tilted slightly to the side. After a moment, he smirked and looked over at James. "Seems like our little Izzy has a bit of a bite to her."

Izora's grip tightened on her satchel, her hands itching to smack the cockiness right out of the boy sitting to her left. If he kept it up, she'd show him just how much of a bite she really had. Izora was saved from further humiliation when the compartment door slid open and the Marauders' attention was focused there.

"_There_ you are Remus." Lily Evans, one of the brightest witches in all of Hogwarts and the subject of James Potter's dubious attentions, stated in obvious relief. "I've been looking all over for you. The Prefects meeting is about to start."

"Alright." Remus replied, closing the book he'd been trying to read and tucking it into his satchel. "Give me a moment."

"Lily!" James exclaimed excitedly and jumped to his feet. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to act as casually as he could after that little display of overenthusiasm. "How, uh, how was your summer, Evans?"

"My summer was none of your business, Potter." Lily snipped, her lips twisting into a faint sneer of distaste. She looked past James, jewel-green eyes sweeping across the compartment before landing on Izora's hunched figure sitting tensely beside Sirius Black. Her brows rose in surprise. "Oh. Hello, Izora."

Izora glanced up at the redhead shyly then looked back down at her satchel, "H-hello Lily."

"So, Evans," James said, sidling up to Lily with a hopeful expression, "I was wondering-"

"I'm surprised to see you here." Lily spoke over James loudly without looking at him, keeping her gaze determinedly on the thin blonde. "I'd have thought you would be sitting with your friends. Instead of…" She trailed off and casted a disdainful look at James, Sirius, and Peter. "Instead of this lot."

"Come now, Evans." Sirius drawled nonchalantly, smirking as he lounged back in his seat. "We're not _that_ bad." He tossed a muscular arm over Izora's shoulder, completely forgetting—or more like ignoring, her earlier demand to not touch her. "Right Izzy?"

Izora scrambling out from under his arm and into James' vacated was all the response he received. Sirius chortled and she shot him a look of loathing from where she was practically merging herself with the compartment wall.

"That's enough, Padfoot." Remus chided, swatting the back of his friend's head as he got to his feet. He gave Izora a small smile that widened slightly when she relaxed marginally and tentatively returned his smile with a barely noticeable one of her own. Shouldering his school bag, he turned towards Lily. "I'm ready."

Lily, having observed the whole scene while ignoring James' attempts to pester her, nodded in acknowledgement then looked towards Izora. "Would you like to come with us, Izora? I can take you to the compartment Dmitri is in if you'd like."

Izora opened her mouth to respond with emphatic agreement, but hesitated and peeked at the Marauders. Sirius was turned towards her, his brows raised in an almost challenging manner, James was glancing between her and Lily, Peter wasn't even looking at her, his gaze focused on his shoes, and Remus...well he was staring at her with what Izora was beginning to realize was a patented look of utter patience and understanding.

"N-no, I-I'm f-f-fine here. Tha-thank you." The stuttered sentences spewed from her mouth without her consent and Izora clapped her hands over her mouth, once again looking like a deer-caught-in-the-headlights when Sirius let out a whoop of triumphant.

Ignoring that particular idiot, Lily stared at Izora doubtfully and she cajoled slightly, "Are you sure, Izora?"

"You heard her, Evans. She wants to stay with us." Sirius taunted slightly. Lily shot him a dirty look and he rolled his eyes, "Oh come off it, Evans. She doesn't need you to protect her virtue. She's _quite_ capable of doing that for herself." He muttered the last bit under his breath, amusement obvious then he raised his voice to a normal volume once more. "Now run along with Moony to your little Prefects' meeting."

Lily's face turned red and she opened her mouth, no doubt getting geared up to let loose a torrent of impolite and violent threats and insults upon Sirius Black's person, but Remus quickly stepped in front of her and distracted her.

"We really should be going, Lily. We don't want to be late." Remus said calmly, gently ushering her out of the compartment doorway before turning to shut it. He looked over at Izora and smiled gently, "I'll be back once my rounds are finished." Next he addressed his three friends, his kind expression becoming stern, "Behave yourselves."

"Why Moony, I'm hurt." Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching at his chest as if he were in pain. He winked at Izora then continued theatrically. "I'm a perfect angel. Isn't that right, Prongs? Aren't we perfect angels?"

"Hmm?" James muttered distractedly, trying—and failing—to peer around Remus in order to get one last glimpse of Lily. Sirius rolled his eyes and stretched a leg out, kicking the back of bespectacled boy's calf. James yelped and whipped around to glare at his best friend. "Ow! Bloody hell, Pads, what was that for, you prat?"

"Just…" Remus sighed and shook his head in exasperation. "Just don't do anything too stupid."

"We make no promises." Sirius replied innocently, smirking slightly at the rueful glare James was giving him as he rubbed his aching calf.

Remus looked up at the ceiling, as if imploring the gods to save him from his ridiculous friends, then with one last glance towards Izora, he shut the compartment door. Sirius waited all of three seconds before twisting around in his seat to stare intently at Izora.

Izora, for her part, just stared warily, and a smidge defiantly, back at him with her satchel held protectively in front of her and her back pressed against the compartment wall. Sirius grinned; she looked like a cornered and pissed off alley cat.

"So, Izzy," He drew the newly coined nickname out.

"D-don't c-c-call me th-that."

Sirius ignored her sharp, if stuttery demand and continued with a smirk, "You still haven't told us what year you're in."

Izora let out a quiet snort and sent him a quelling look of utter derision in response. Like bloody hell he was going to get anything out of her after everything he'd pulled.

"C'mon, Izzy." James coaxed, joining Sirius in his wheedling as he dropped down heavily in Remus' vacated seat directly across from her. "What's the harm in telling us what year you're in? Surely, it's not that big of a deal."

Izora shook her head stubbornly and refused to speak, fixing her stare on her the top of her satchel. She'd made it nearly her entire school life without drawing too much attention to herself, like bloody hell she'd let these two cheeky, attention-seeking tossers ruin that on a whim. Izora grimaced slightly; oh brilliant, now her inner monologue had a distinctive 'Lily Evans' feel to it. Lovely. That was just…lovely.

–––––

Several hours after Lily had fetched Remus for the Prefects meeting found Izora huddled in her corner seat beside the compartment's window with her back against the wall, her knees drawn up, and her school robes draped over her legs like a makeshift blanket. Her school bag was resting on her former seat and she had _The Hobbit _propped up on her knees, picking up where she'd left off when the four Marauders had invaded her compartment near the start of the train ride.

Sirius and James were sitting across from her—Sirius now sitting in the window-seat and James right beside him—their heads close together as they conversed in quiet whispers, occasionally shooting what they thought were surreptitious glances in her direction. Izora ignored them as she had been doing for the past four or so hours, stubbornly refusing to even acknowledge their presence. The Honeydukes Express trolley had come and gone half an hour ago; this marked the train ride's halfway point, seeing as how the trolley witch didn't begin making rounds until then. The three remaining Marauders had converged on the poor elderly woman like a pack of ravenous wolves, purchasing practically everything on the trolley—Izora, not having much of a sweet-tooth, had of course politely refused the trolley witch's offer of something sweet from her cart while the boys raided said cart.

Izora had taken the momentary bedlam created by the three young men to pull Draci from his carrier and place him in her lap before resuming her previous seating position. By the time Sirius, James, and Peter had returned to their seats across from her, arms laden with various Honeydukes sweets, Izora was once again reading her book, the three boys none the wiser to the pine marten curled up in the space between her stomach and thighs.

Very much engrossed in the adventure of Bilbo Baggins and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, Izora failed to notice James and Sirius conclude their quiet scheming and were now staring at her with identical looks of mischief, each of them with a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. She was unaware, at least, until one said sweets bounced off of her head. Izora jumped a bit in surprise and whipped her head around, lips twisted downward in an irate glower. As soon as her vexed gaze landed on the pair, Sirius and James silenced their snickers and smiled innocently at her, their hands suspiciously hidden from view.

Izora eyed them narrowly for several moments then huffed quietly and went back to reading, shifting a small bit so she was turned slightly away from the two insufferable young men. Not even a second later another projectile ricocheted off the back of her head followed by a hissed;

"Izzy!"

Izora gritted her teeth and hunched her shoulders, determined to ignore James and Sirius and continue reading her book. She was just getting to a rather exciting part where the Company was trapped in a tree surrounded by wolves and goblins when a bean flew past her shoulder, bounced off the back of the seat and landed on Draci's head. The marten jolted and shook his blunt, triangular head with an agitated chitter, sending the sweet to the ground. Izora shifted her white-knuckled grip on her book to one hand and gently dropped her free hand to Draci's head, stroking his ears soothingly. Draci settled down slightly and repositioned himself, peering under Izora's arm and riveting his jet-black eyes on the ever oblivious James and Sirius.

"_Psst! _Izzy! Guess what?" James stage-whispered and he grinned cheekily when she shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder. "We figured out what year you're in, Izzy."

"You're a sixth year." Sirius finished triumphantly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat with a self-satisfied smirk.

Unimpressed, Izora glanced between them, her gaze flat and lips pursed. They stared back at her expectantly, looking so very proud of themselves, as if they'd just figured out some complicated mystery and were waiting to be showered with praise and adoration.

"F-f-figure th-that out a-all by y-you-yourselves th-then?" Izora stuttered out drily, barely refraining from rolling her eyes as she turned back to her book. Merlin, they were such twits.

"I'll have you know we deduced your year in a blaze of intellectual glory." Sirius retorted with playful indignation after sharing a mock-affronted look with James. "You should be impressed. It was really quite brilliant, wasn't it, Prongs?"

"Indeed it was, my good sir." James agreed in a stuffy sort of voice before pronouncing quite theatrically, "You see, little Izzy, when we realized that my dearest Lilyflower recognized you, we were able to infer that you shared a dormitory with the most beautiful, intelligent-"

"And since Evans is in _our_ year, that must mean you are too." Sirius cut James off before he could go on rambling, speaking in a voice worthy of one of the snobbish politician from the Ministry of Magic.

"Oi," James snapped, rather outraged at being interrupted, and he shoved his best friend's shoulder, "I was getting to that bit!"

Sirius just smirked smugly at him, "Please, Prongs, you can go on about your 'Dearest Lilyflower' for hours. I was just saving time."

Izora couldn't help it, the indignant look James fixed Sirius with, caused her to snort a small laugh. The Marauders' two ringleaders instantly locked on the sound and looked at her with victorious grins. Izora flushed and ducked her head, bringing her book up to hide her face. Once again, she was spared from further humiliation as the compartment door slid open.

"Zora."

The deep, slightly accented voice caused Izora to lift and turn her head so quickly, she thought she put a crick in it. At once her expression went from annoyed embarrassment to utter delight and, after depositing Draci and her book on the seat beside her, she all but scrambled to her feet and flew at the tall, lanky young man standing in the door way.

"Dmitri!" Izora almost squealed, prompting surprised looks from the three Marauders in the compartment.

Grunting quietly, Dmitri Ţepeş took a small step back to keep his balance as eight and a half stones of blonde Gryffindor bowled into him, her thin arms twining around his waist in a fierce hug. He snorted and exasperatedly rolled his eyes at her show of exuberant affection. His arm came up and wrapped around her shoulders despite his mild exasperation. Uncaring of her observers, she pressed her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes. The haze she'd pushed back earlier when Sirius had kissed her hand surged forward, blanketing her mind for only a second before images began playing like a Muggle movie-reel.

— _Green and brown blurs of trees whipping past  
Wind, icy cold and burning against unprotected skin  
Elation, the complete and utter euphoric feeling of flying  
Of experience a true sense of freedom…_

"_Dmitri Vladimir Ţepeş, you get off that broom right now, young man!"  
Laughter, deep and resounding, filled the air after the shrill shriek  
The euphoric feeling evaporated, replaced by mild annoyance…—_

Izora grinned, lifted her head, and met Dmitri's deadpan gaze. He sneered down at her, the look more playful than actually contemptuous. Cantankerous prat he may be, but he'd never begrudge her the opportunity to practice her gift; it was practically tradition for her to use her psychometry to snoop a bit on their summers.

"Nosy chit." He muttered, causing her smile to widen slightly then he looked over her head. His coal black eyes narrowed and he regarded the three young men with open contempt, "So this is why you aren't sitting with Galen and me."

Izora abruptly remembered the other three people she was sharing a compartment with and she seemed to almost shrink, her face becoming ghostly pale. Slowly, she turned in Dmitri's grip to face the three Marauders and shrank even further at the looks they were giving her; James' hazel eyes were flickering between herself and Dmitri behind his spectacles, looking rather puzzled with his head tilted to the side; Sirius was lounging back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, a look of cool indifference on his face; and Peter, poor Peter looked extremely confused and about as uncomfortable as Izora currently felt.

"This your bloke, Izzy?" Sirius asked as he quirked a sardonic brow at her. The 'didn't know you could get a boyfriend' went unsaid, but was heard by all.

Izora grimaced slightly at his tone, like he expected her to apologize for not mentioning that she actually had friends and that her world did not, in fact, revolve around him and the rest of the Marauders. Izora tilted her chin up defiantly and firmed her mouth as she spat out a retort;

"P-piss o-off, y-y-you wa-wanker."

Sirius scoffed quietly and turned away, glaring moodily out the window. James glanced between his sulking best friend, the young blonde woman glowering mutinously, and the irritable-looking young man standing behind her.

"Well, this is sufficiently awkward." The bespectacled young man stated loudly, his amused voice cutting through the rising tension like a knife. He ignored the outraged look Sirius sent him as he waved towards the seats across from him and his two friends. "Izzy, why don't you and your bloke come and sit down, yeah?"

Izora shoulders slumped a bit in mild relief, her rigid posture losing its tension-caused stiffness. Eying Sirius cagily, she grabbed Dmitri's wrist, moved his arm from around her shoulders, and led him to the seat across from the three Marauders. She dropped down heavily in the ugly seat by the window, directly across from Sirius, and Dmitri sat beside her after she placed her schoolbag under the seat and placed Draci in her lap. He sat with a lazy sort of hostility, his arms crossed standoffishly over his chest, shoulders held back and posture loose; as if he was just for a confrontation to start up. Sirius, Izora noted, was in a similar, if a little more tense, position. They were both glaring balefully at each other.

James was looking increasingly amused by the whole situation, evident by the way he kept glancing between the two with grin that was steadily growing until his dimple was visible. Izora just found their male posturing exceptionally exasperating and was wondering if it was possible to suffocate on an excess of testosterone. Judging from the way Peter currently looked—rather panicked and very strained, Izora had a feeling it _was_ possible.

Looking completely at ease and beaming quite madly at this point, James settled back in his seat and folded his hands behind his head, before nudging Izora's leg with the toe of his shoe, "Eh, Izzy, introduce us to your bloke, will you?"

Izora startled like a deer, peering at the bespectacled boy owlishly. He gazed back at her expectantly, raising and lowering his brows and pointedly nodding his head in Dmitri's direction. Dmitri, having seen the whole exchange, rolled his eyes and snorted.

"I'm not her 'bloke', Potter." Dmitri drawled out flatly, "Shirty cow though she is, Izora is my best mate. More of a sister really." He added that last bit in an offhanded manner.

"S-stroppy cow?!" Izora hissed heatedly then proceeded to smack him repeatedly on the shoulder. "I-I'll s-sh-show you a-a-a s-st-stroppy c-cow, y-you t-toe-rag!"

Dmitri grunted and tried to fend her off, swatting her hands away from his person as if he were waving away an annoying fly. "Merlin, calm down, woman! It was a joke! Not that it isn't true." He muttered the last bit under his breath, but Izora still heard him and promptly switched from smacking him with her hands to using her book.

James was watching the whole interaction with unholy glee, his mind already whirling at how much of a paradox the young woman was. She was definitely someone he wanted to befriend. Beside him, Sirius was also watching Izora accost her friend, his lips unwillingly tugging up into an amused smirk. His thoughts were in a similar vein to his best mate; although 'friendship' maybe wasn't _necessarily_ what he had in mind.

"Ow! Alright! _Enough woman!_" Dmitri demanded, snatching the book from Izora's grasp and holding it out of her reach. Glowering, he swore at her colorfully and nastily in Romanian until she boxed him 'round the ears in retaliation. He rubbed the side of his head and scowled at her but wisely remained silent when she narrowed her eyes dangerously.

Izora snorted as he sulkily slouched in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression the very picture of petulance. She caught James and Sirius observing her mirthfully and she blushed, feeling horrified over what they had witnessed. It was one thing for her to act like a complete nutter around Dmitri and Galen, but she hardly knew James, Sirius, and Peter. She wished the ground would open up and devour her—that's if she didn't die of mortification first, of course.

"Well then, that was certainly entertaining." James stated cheerfully, dimple flashing as he grinned while his hazel eyes danced with good humor. He nodded his head towards Dmitri, "We still haven't gotten your name, mate. Though you obviously know who we are."

Dmitri casted a disinterested glance in the bespectacled young man's direction then deadpanned, "Yeah, the _Marauders_ are pretty well-known." He didn't make any move to continue, at least not until Izora elbowed him pointedly in the side. He grunted;

"Fine, fine. Tetchy today, aren't you?" Izora flashed her teeth in a not-so-nice smile and Dmitri rolled his eyes then looked towards the three Marauders, "Names Dmitri Ţepeş, sixth year Hufflepuff."

Sirius' brow shot up and he gave the dark eyed young man a look of disbelief, "Hufflepuff, really?"

"Are you taking the piss?" James sputtered out at the same time then he and Sirius exchanged unreadable looks and simultaneously burst into raucous laughter. After a moment, Peter joined in nervously, his chuckles weak and unsure.

Dmitri scoffed and rolled his head in Izora's direction, rather used to this type of reaction, but no less annoyed by it. He drawled out flatly, "Your new mates are bleeding twats, Zora."

"N-not my m-m-mates." Izora muttered, eying James and Sirius like one would eye a particularly disgusting bogey; they were practically convulsing in their chairs from laughter. Izora grimaced and glanced out the now rain-streaked window, taking in the darkened sky.

Turning away, she reached over Dmitri and picked up her book, flipping through the pages until she found her place then she settled into continue reading. She immersed in the story, trying to ignore the way James and Sirius, with Peter tentatively joining in, began taking the mickey out of Dmitri for being a Hufflepuff— luckily he was so used to it by now that he simply scoffed and replied with scathing retorts that did nothing but elate the two mischief-makers. Izora snorted and rolled her eyes; they were definitely not her mates and they never would be, not if she had anything to do with it.

It. Would. _Never_. Bloody. Happen.

If only she knew how wrong she was…

* * *

***Even...** Any and all skin-to-skin contact can trigger Izora's psychometry, but her hands are much for sensitive/powerful conduits for her gift. This pretty much means that even though she wears gloves, if she's not actively shielding her mind against it, she can still pick up faint thoughts/memories/etc. from a person if they touch/grab her hands. But that's only for people; she can't get readings off of inanimate objects through her gloves.

**relief*** The way Izora's thought process works was inspired by Cassandra Cillian from The Librarians (in that it's very chaotic and disjointed, but still somehow all connects). Pretty much due to her psychometry, Izora developed a form _**Synesthesia**_, which allows her to link certain senses (if not all five of them) to her memory.

**head*** The 'multi-tiered labyrinth she'd constructed in her head' is inspired by BBC Sherlock's 'Mind Palace' as well as FF Author Cuckoo on a String's character Hal (from her story Sin Eater)'s mental library. It's pretty much how she deals with her psychometry; each 'tier' of the labyrinth has represents the various memories, emotions, etc. that she's gathered throughout her life from touching things/people. Each time she touches someone/thing, a new memory is added to whichever 'tier' it belongs to, making that particular maze even more complicated. When she touches someone/thing new, an entirely new 'tier' is added to her labyrinth.

**mind*** Izora's mind/thoughts/memory is heavily visually based; meaning that she more often sees things as images and certain things can trigger her mind to thrust different visuals to the forefront (i.e. she once touched something that belonged to a man that _was_ in fact lynched, thus when she mentioned Galen lynching her, her mind provided that visual). Also if she focuses enough, she can visualize her mental labyrinth on her surrounds and in the air around her head (once again, like Cassandra Cillian from The Librarians).

**Author's Note: Ehe, so as you can see I've started rewriting _The Girl Who Can't Be Touched _again. I was going through it a few weeks ago and realized that I wasn't overly fond of the first attempt at the remake, so here's the second and, in my opinion, much better remake. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also if anyone is interested, there is a tumblr for this story. It's called **_thegirlwhocantbetouched. _**The link to it can be found on my profile. If you have any questions regarding the characters or the story you can ask me there or here =]**


	2. Chapter 2: The Welcoming Feast

Chapter Two: Hogwarts and the Welcoming Feast

_Hosgmeade Station, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain;  
1__st__ of September 1976_

–––––

What had initially started out as a gentle drizzle a little more than halfway through the train ride to Hogwarts had erupted into a deluge the moment the train had pulled into Hogsmeade Station, pelting the disembarking students with icy droplets and soaking them to the bone in moments.

One Izora Hallowell and one Dmitri Ţepeş were currently trapped in said deluge, both completely soaked and rather miserable—or in Dmitri's case furious. The two of them were standing on the side of the road that led to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade Station, huddled close together under a large tree that did very little to protect them from the current downpour, anxiously scanning the crowd of students, second year and above, currently climbing into the thestral drawn carriages that would take them to the castle, searching fervently for their other best friend, Galen Silverwood. Unfortunately, the burly Scot was proving to be surprisingly elusive to find, much to Dmitri's annoyance.

"Where the bloody hell is that overgrown ox?" Dmitri growled before slipping into Romanian and beginning to curse.

Izora winced slightly at her friend's tone—and his more colorful swears—and she hugged her robes tighter around herself, shifting closer to Dmitri for warmth while continuing to desperately search the steadily dispersing crowd of students for Galen. She had so much to tell him; about her summer, her father, but she especially wanted to tell him about the train ride.

Shortly after Dmitri had joined her and the three remaining Marauders, Izora had continued reading _The Hobbit_, listening to Dmitri, Sirius, and James banter back and forth with half an ear while Peter occasionally chipped in—but mostly remained silent, busily munching on the plethora of sweets the boys had gotten from the Honeydukes Express trolley. At some point, when the journey was a little more than three-fourths of the way through, Sirius and James had wrangled Dmitri into playing a game of Exploding Snap (the Barvarian Rules Snap variation unfortunately) with the three of them.

This was proved to be rather detrimental to everyone in the compartment's health. James ended up breaking his glasses, Sirius ended up covered in soot, Peter lost an eyebrow and singed the other, and Dmitri set the sleeve of his Transylvanian Bats jumper on fire which then nearly lit James', luckily, vacated seat ablaze. It was only because of Izora's quick reflexes and her excellent mastery of the _Aqua Eructo_ charm that prevented any more damage from occurring. And then the three Marauders were on the receiving end of a stuttered, but still exceptionally effective, dressing down from Izora Hallowell. By the end of it Sirius, James, and Peter thoroughly felt as if they'd had their bollocks handed to them (James and Sirius going even so far as to express their admiration and awe of her verbal thrashing—they were both now even more determined to befriend the young woman). Izora _Silencio_'d them in response and regulated them to a timeout then she banished Dmitri—who had that point had received so many similar dressing downs from the blonde that he was near immune—from the compartment with strict instructions to change into his school robes and to go back to his own compartment. She would find him once the train reached the station, seeing as how she didn't trust the three Maraurders to their own devices.

When Remus had returned to the compartment a little less than an hour before the Hogwarts Express was set to arrive at Hogsmeade Station, he'd found James and Sirius waving their arms and gesturing frantically with their hands unable to move—she'd hit them with the Leg-Locker Curse after they had ignored her regulated timeout and tried to sit beside her—their mouths opening and closing without emitting any sound, Peter huddled in a terrified ball as far from Izora as he could physically get, and said young woman sitting quite calmly in the seat beside the window, reading her book. Needless to say, the Prefect had been immensely amused at his best friends' predicaments after Izora had explained what had happened in her halting, stuttery way. Peter even chimed in after Izora had lifted the silencing charm from him—much to James and Sirius' chagrin.

It goes without saying that Remus made the conscious decision to look the other way just this once, leaving his two friends silenced and unable to move their legs until the train had pulled into the station, despite the many crude gestures and dirty looks he received from the two young men. He ignored most of those—with the exception of the particularly nasty ones which he retaliated against with a stern smack upside the head—in favor of quietly conversing with Izora about her book while Peter went back to comfortable munching on his sweets, having relaxed considerably now that the ever sensible Remus was back

It had been a very riveting conversation and as it progressed, Izora found herself growing more comfortable with the quiet, rather subdued Marauder; she stuttered less, her posture relaxed marginally, and she even laughed occasionally. She allowed Remus a small glimpse of the person she only let Dmitri and Galen truly see. It had been sort of refreshing, but mostly terrifying and as soon as she realized what was going on, Izora had mumbled out several broken, stuttery excuses and fled the compartment, barely pausing to grab Draci, her black robe, and her school bag before she bolted.

_Some bloody Gryffindor I am. I bet they think I'm a complete nutter._ Izora thought with a little bitterness as she remembered her flight from the compartment. In her cowardly haste to get away from the compartment—and the boy that made her feel far more comfortable in his presence than she should—she had forgotten to grab her book from the seat where Remus had placed it after asking if he could look it over. Despite the freezing rain beginning to numb her face, her cheeks burned with remembered humiliation. _At least they'll leave me alone._

Izora clung to that reasoning even as she hugged herself for warmth, huddled in her soaked robes. Izora was pulled from her chaotic and self-deprecating thoughts but a deep baritone voice shouting in a thick Scottish brogue.

"Izora! Dmitri! Over here!"

Izora swung her head in the voice's direction and relief flooded her when she caught sight of Galen's familiar figure. The Scot cut an impressive figure as he forced himself through the thin crowd of straggling students, his broad brawny form making it easy.

"About bleeding time!" Dmitri all but snarled as Galen finally reached them, black eyes flashing angrily through his shaggy hair that was plastered to his face.

"Oi, you damn tosser, why didn't you give her your cloak?" Galen demanded his velvety brown eyes unamused as he took in Izora's shivering and rather pathetic figure as he swept out of his own wet cloak and draped it over her shoulders. "There you go, luv. Let's get you into a carriage, yeah?"

Feeling utterly miserable and looking very much like a drowned rat, Izora nodded with a short sniffle and allowed Galen to tuck her under his muscular arm and against his side. He led her out from under the tree, leaving Dmitri sputtering and swearing crossly in Romanian behind them before he gave chase.

When they reached an empty carriage, Galen ushered Izora inside of it then climbed in after her, taking his wand from his trouser pocket as he went. Dmitri joined them in the carriage a second later, slamming the door shut behind him and dropping down onto the bench across from Izora and Galen. The carriage lurched forward as soon as the door was shut, the wheels creaking as the thestrals drawing it trundled up to the castle.

"Thanks for abandoning me." The Hufflepuff grumped with a scowl, crossing his arms over his chest and all but pouting.

"Quit your whining, you ninny." Galen snipped back then he waved his wand over Izora and himself, "*_Emulgeo__."_

The drying spell instantly evaporated the water plastering Izora's pale blonde hair to her scalp and her clothes to her thin body, leaving her blessedly dry. She sighed in relief and shoved the curtain of hair hanging in her face out of the way, flashing a smile at Galen in gratitude.

"Thanks, Gal."

"Yeah, thanks Gal." Dmitri mocked, still soaking wet because Galen was punishing him for not being a chivalrous numpty like he, himself, was. Scowling, the Romanian born wizard pulled his wand from the pocket of his robe and waved it over himself, muttering the drying charm under his breath, "_Emulgeo."_

Galen gave him a smug look, for a moment looking every inch the Slytherin he was then he turned to look at Izora with concern. "Alright then, luv?"

Izora nodded in affirmation as she slipped out of his green-lined school robe and handed it to him to put back on then she reached into the inner pocket of her own red-lined robe, pulling Draci and placing him in her lap. The marten, nice and dry from the charm Izora had placed on the inner pockets of her robes after buying them, chattered and nuzzled her hand.

"Where were you sitting on the train, Zora?" Galen questioned lightly, casually draping his left arm over Izora's shoulder and scratching Draci's head with his right hand. "Mitri and I went looking, but couldn't find you before the train left the platform."

"Don't call me that." Dmitri demanded sharply, scowling at the much hated nickname that had been bestowed upon him then he sneered and quirked a brow at Izora, "We couldn't find her because she was sitting with _The Marauders_."

"Aye?" Galen's eyebrows shoot up to nearly his hairline and he looked down at the young woman tucked under his arm curiously, "That true?"

Izora wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes slightly at his disapproving tone. He was always so overprotective. She shot a nasty look at Dmitri before replying with forced nonchalance;

"Yeah, didn't h-have much of a choice really. They just sort of b-barged in."

"They didn't give you any trouble, did they?" Galen asked, his brown eyes darkening as thoughts of what kind of mischief those four troublemakers could have gotten up to in her presence. _Poor Zora. _

"No, no." Izora mollified, fibbing only a little bit. James and Sirius had been the only ones to give her any real trouble, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Remus, of course, had been a perfect gentleman to her during the short time they'd spent in each other's company and Peter had been much too shy—and later terrified—of her to cause problems. She felt rather bad about that.

"Mm-hm." The Scot hummed and eyed her skeptically, not sure if he really believed her or not. She stared back at him plainly, blue-green eyes wide and limpid, and after a moment he sighed, conceding that he wouldn't be able to tell if she was being honest or not. "If you say so, luv."

Izora ducked her head, hiding a triumphant little smile behind her curtain of hair as she stroked Draci's back with her fingertips.

"Has you by the bollocks now doesn't she, Gal?" Dmitri muttered with a smug little smirk, folding his arms over his chest and lounging back against the carriage wall.

Galen kicked him in the shin in retaliation, laughing deeply when the lanky young man swore at him sharply. Izora shook her head and rolled her eyes heavenward, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her two best friends began to bicker like an old married couple. Completely ridiculous the both of them, but Izora wouldn't trade her friendship with them for anything in the world.

Dmitri suddenly lunged at Galen after an ill-timed comment about the Hufflepuff's mother—who did _not_ look like Baba Yaga's ugly sister, but was actually a very beautiful and lovely woman. She also didn't eat wandering heroes or children, although she made a delicious roast duck. Izora yelped and scrambled up and out of the way, knocking her head against the roof of the carriage. Draci screeched irately as he was dumped from Izora's lap onto the wooden floor and he dove under the bench seat just in time to avoid being crushed by one of the two wrestling boys as they fell to the floor.

"Bloody gits!" Izora shrieked, choking on laughter as she stood on the bench seat, keeping her hands pressed against the ceiling to keep her balance and ducking her head to keep from knocking it again. "Stop! I said stop, you muppets!"

The carriage jerked to a stop and Izora yelped as she was throwing off-kilter, teetering on the bench before she tumbled forward, landing in a heap on top of her two best friends. Sprawled out on the bottom of the carriage, the trio groaned in discomfort. Dmitri, the poor Hufflepuff, had the worst of it, seeing as how he'd somehow managed to end up on the bottom of the pile.

"Sorry, sorry!" Izora gasped and she clambered off of Galen's back, scrabbling to pull herself back onto the bench seat.

Trapped beneath the much burlier Slytherin that was Galen Silverwood, Dmitri shoved at his shoulder and snarled, "Ger'ff- me!"

"'m tryin'!" Galen growled back as he pushed himself to his feet then dropped back onto the bench seat beside Izora.

Dmitri shot him a dirty look, but refrained from commenting as he got up and pushed the carriage door open, stumbling out into the rain. Galen followed him a moment later then they both helped Izora out of the carriage after she'd retrieved Draci from under the bench seat. With her marten carefully tucked away into the inner pocket of her robe, Izora grabbed Galen and Dmitri's hands and ran towards the open castle doors.

Izora was giggling quietly by the time she and her two best friends entered the castle, the hilarity of what happened in the carriage finally catching up to her and she leaned against Galen, clutching his arm as she nearly doubled over in mirth. Galen's lips twitched into a grin, revealing the two deep dimples in his cheeks and he chuckled deeply. Dmitri merely rolled his eyes heavenward with a martyred expression.

Still giggling quietly, Izora patted Galen's arm then pulled away from him, "See you b-boys at breakfast."

"Yeah, yeah." Dmitri grunted with some impatience then he ruffled Izora's hair in a fleeting show of affection, and sauntered towards the Great Hall, shoulder-checking Galen on his way past.

"Prat." Galen grumbled, snorting wryly when Izora giggled before he dropped a quick kiss on her forehead—eliciting a brief tingle at the back of her mind, "See you at breakfast, luv."

"Yes, now sh-shoo." She waved him away, laughing lightly under her breath when he, walking backwards, winked playfully at her. Shaking her head and biting back a smile, Izora walked into the brightly lit Great Hall.

Izora listened to the laughter and chatter of friends catching up after a long summer as she made her way to the Gryffindor table, landing in an empty space near the end of the long bench seat. She folded her arms on top of the table, unconsciously keeping her elbows off of it, leaned forward slightly, and continued to idly people watch; she spotted Dmitri at the Hufflepuff table, turned slightly towards a brunette sitting beside him with his elbow propped up on the table, leaning against his fist as the girl talked excitedly. He looked so very bored.

Izora bit her lip to keep from smiling, glanced away from her best friend, her gaze roaming until she found Lily sitting about midway down the table with the other girls in their year; Marlene McKinnon, a delicate-seeming blonde with lovely sky-blue eyes and a flirtatious disposition. She knew how beautiful she was and she knew how to use it to her advantage, pretending, more often than not, to be the stereotypical dizzy blonde trollop instead of the frighteningly intelligent and calculating young woman that she was. Next to Marlene was her best friend, Alice Prewett; taller than Marlene by about six inches, she kept her blonde hair cropped short and her brown eyes always seemed to be smiling, as if someone had told an off-color joke and she was trying not to laugh. She wasn't as flirty as Marlene—being a committed relationship with Frank Longbottom, a seventh year Gryffindor, since the beginning of fifth year—Alice was quick-witted and very playful.

Sitting across from the two blondes and beside Dorcas Meadowes—a petite brunette with dark green eyes and a shy temperament—Lily caught her eye and waved with a small smile. Izora returned the smile with a small, shy one of her own and looked away from the four girls. She got on with all of them well enough, seeing as she'd spent the past five, soon to be six, years sharing a dormitory with them, but she wouldn't really consider them friends. More like acquaintances; they had polite, if halting, small talk about impersonal things, they helped each other out with school work when it was needed, little things like that.

If she was being honest with herself, Izora had a feeling that if she was a little less closed off, a little less shy and wary of people, she could be good friends with at least Dorcas and maybe, _maybe_, Lily. Marlene and Alice were a little too lively and excitable for Izora to handle.

Her blue-green eyes found Galen sitting at the Slytherin table clear on the other side of the Great Hall and Izora felt her heart warm. Like her, he sat near the end of the table, closest to the doors with several other students from varying years. Students Izora knew for a fact were either muggleborn or halfbloods, like her best friend. Being sorted into a house that held blood purity in such regard was hard and isolating for those whose blood was considered 'dirty' and 'impure'. Most of the muggleborns and halfbloods—at least the ones that weren't trying to kiss up to the purebloods—tried to keep their heads down, avoid being noticed by the purebloods of their house, and keep to themselves. Before Galen's influence, the muggleborn and halfblooded Slytherins would have never stood up or defended their fellows against the purebloods, but Galen had banded them together. He kept them mostly safe—if his physique weren't enough of a deterrent, his skill when it came to dueling certainly was—both from his own house and students from other houses that believed all Slytherins were the same.

Sometimes Dmitri would joke that Galen had been sorted into the wrong house and then Galen would show him exactly _why_ he was in Slytherin. Moments like those were always great fun for Izora.

Galen saw her looking and lifted his chin in a little nod of acknowledgement and Izora raised her hand, wiggling her fingers in a little wave. He grinned, but it fell a moment later and his expression darkened marginally. Izora had only a moment to be confused before a warm body landed in the open space beside her on the bench.

"Here you are, Izzy!" James Potter tossed his arm over her shoulder—she tensed—and all but bellowed at the top of his lungs, "Oi! Pads, Moony, Wormy! I found her!"

Izora flinched. The Great Hall actually went silent and people turned to look at them. Heat suffused Izora's face and neck and she just knew her pale skin had turned gone red with embarrassment. She ducked her head, shielding her face with her hair, and slouched down on the bench in mortification. James appeared unconcerned with the attention, waving the arm that wasn't currently wrapped around Izora's shoulders around like a lunatic.

Izora shifted, turned her head slightly towards James, and scowled at him. James just grinned cheerfully at her in response, hazel eyes glinting with mischief and humor behind his round spectacles. Izora narrowed her eyes and contemplated how much trouble she'd get in if she hexed him. It wouldn't be hard; take her wand from her robe pocket, point it at him under the table, a quick _anteoculatia_, and _bam!_ a pair of prongs for the boy whose friends call him Prongs (although she had no idea why they called him that).

She had just about convinced herself that whatever trouble she got into for hexing him would be worth it when Sirius dropped down onto the bench on her other side, Remus and Peter taking a seat on the bench opposite them. Remus had the decency to look sheepish, sending a displeased look at his two friends, who completely ignored him.

The silent hall burst into whispers and loud chatter and Izora's face burned even hotter. Oh Sweet Morgana, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. Remus gave her an awkward, apologetic smile. She grimaced in return and looked down at her empty plate.

"We've been looking for everywhere, dove." Sirius said flirtatiously. He shifted on the bench to face her better, leaned his elbow on the table, rested his cheek against his raised fist, and smiled at her roguishly, turning the full force of his wicked grey eyes on her.

Izora's face went beet red—ah, so that's where her blush went, she'd thought she had lost it—her eyes went wide as saucers, and she actually _squeaked_. It wasn't a loud noise, barely a peep, but it was loud enough for the four boys sitting around her to hear.

Sirius tossed his head back and barked out a loud laugh; James snorted then brayed like an arse; Peter made a strangled sound and bowed his head, his shoulders shaking with his own giggles; Remus let out a short, raspy laugh then covered his mouth with a hand to hide his smile, looking sheepish for laughing, but his honey-brown eyes were bright with mirth.

_Why?_ Izora mentally whined, tilting her head back to stare at the enchanted ceiling with a mortified pleading. _Sweet Morgana, why me?_

Her inner Gryffindor reared her head, indignant and mutinous, and more than willing to unleash the most painful hexes she knew on the four Marauders. Fortunately—for them at least—Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands once. The students fell silent once more and turned towards him expectantly.

"I know that many of you are probably quite hungry," The Headmaster began, his blue eyes twinkling over his head half-moon spectacles as he regarded the students with fondness. "So without any further adieu, let the Sorting begin!"

He clapped his hands again and sat down as the Great Hall doors creaked open and McGonagall walked regally into the hall in all her stern and magnanimous glory. The gaggle of first years followed after her, looking frightened and awed as they glanced around them. McGonagall walked up the short steps that led to the dais where the staff sat at the High Table and stopped beside a stool with an old, raggedy hat on it. The first years skidded to a stop before the first step, looking around unsurely and whispering quietly to each other.

_"Ohhh," _The hat suddenly burst out, startling the first years. They looked at each other in shock then back at the Sorting Hat as it continued its song.

_"You may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see!  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me!"_

Izora smiled, her embarrassment receding as she focused on the Sorting. The Hat's songs were always so amusing and the first years' reactions never failed to make her giggle a little. Of course, she hadn't found her _own_ Sorting quite so humorous—the Hat had seen over a thousand years of Sortings and when it had touched her head…Well, if not for Dumbledore and McGonagall, she'd have passed out.

_"A thousand years of more ago  
When I was newly sewn  
There lived four wizards of great renown  
And whose names are still well known;_

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

_United by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning  
To make the world's best magic school  
And pass along their learning._

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
And Thus Hogwarts School began!_

_Each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they wished to teach._

_While still alive they did divide  
Their favourites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?_

_Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!_

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_  
_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
_Where they are just and loyal,_  
_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
_if you've a ready mind,_  
_Where those of wit and learning,_  
_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
_You'll make your real friends,_  
_Those cunning folks use any means_  
_To achieve their ends._

_There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be."_

The Sorting Hat fell silent, the last of its song echoing throughout the hall and McGonagall stepped forward, pulling a roll of parchment from the billowing sleeve of her robe. She snapped the parchment open and glanced down at the first years;

"Now, when I call your name, you will step forth and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will Sort you into your future house." She cleared her throat, held up the parchment up at eyelevel and read the first name from the top of the list, "Malia Burbanks."

A petite girl with dark hair shuffled from the group of first years and nervously stepped onto the dais.

"Ten sickles on Hufflepuff." Sirius whispered under his breath as the tiny girl clambered onto the stool and McGonagall dropped the hat on her head.

"I'll take that bet." James muttered from the corner of his mouth, shaking Sirius's hand behind Izora's back.

Izora frowned at them admonishingly, unknowingly mimicking the exasperated look on Remus's face as he shook his head at his friends. It only took a minute or two before the Hat made its choice and bellowed;

"Hufflepuff!"

The Hufflepuff tables broke out into loud cheers, the girl took the Hat off her head, looking very relieved, and scurried to her new house's table. James cursed and Sirius smiled smugly at his best friend. Izora couldn't help but roll her eyes at them, her lips unwillingly twitching up the tiniest bit. They were annoying toe-rags, but Izora couldn't deny that they were funny on occasion.

Remus caught her eye and effected a martyred expression, shrugging his shoulders in a 'Yes, they're idiots, but what can you do?' gesture. Izora smiled lightly, a faint blush staining her cheeks when he returned her smile with one of his own. The Sorting continued with James and Sirius betting on the first years, Peter and even Remus occasionally chiming in.

"Arthur Carmine."

Izora and the four Marauders watched as a blonde boy, surprisingly tall for an eleven year old, walked up to the stool, turned, and took a seat. Even from this distance, Izora could see his eyes were a startling shade of silver-blue and they stared down at everyone in the Great Hall with a certain cool haughtiness that only a member of the old pureblood families was capable of.

"Slytherin." James and Sirius said almost immediately.

"No." Izora said quietly, speaking up for the first time. She folded her arms on the table and leaned forward, ignoring the curious looks the boys were giving her. "H-he'll b-be in R-R-Ravenclaw."

"Are you willing to bet on that?" Sirius asked challengingly, arching a dark brow at her. Izora shrugged one shoulder without looking up from her arms. Sirius harrumphed quietly, "Fine. One galleon says he's in Slytherin." He paused for a moment then added as an afterthought, "And a date for the first Hogsmeade weekend."

Izora glanced at him from the corner of her eye then shrugged again. She knew she was going be right, so it wouldn't hurt. "M-make it f-four g-g-galleons."

The four boys looked surprised that she'd actually agreed, exchanging bemused glances. Sirius shook himself from his stupor and smirked at her, "Deal. I hope you have something nice to wear."

"A-and I h-hope y-you're re-ready to p-pay up."

"Oh don't you worry, dove." Sirius winked at her quickly then looked back towards Arthur as McGonagall set the Sorting Hat on his blonde head. "I'll be more than willing."

Izora wrinkled her nose at his suggestive tone, rolled her eyes, and focused on Arthur. He sat perfectly still on the stool, hands resting in his lap, and waiting calmly as the Sorting Hat deliberated on where to place him.

"Come on, come on." Sirius muttered under his breath, focusing on the sorting with entirely unnecessary focus.

A minute passed.

Two then three minutes went by.

Sirius leaned forward eagerly, holding his breath; James sucked in a breath and ran a hand through his hair agitatedly; Peter began to fidget in his seat, tugging on the hem of shirt; Remus slouched, playing with a frayed end of his robe's sleeve. Izora hid a smile and leaned back, calm as can be.

Nearly four minutes had passed since McGonagall had placed the Sorting Hat on Arthur Carmine's head and in those four minutes, the tension had risen considerably in the Great Hall, everyone waiting expectantly. It was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

The silence was abruptly broken by the hat roaring, "RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaws leapt to their feet, erupted into wild, boisterous cheers, and clapped uproariously. Arthur calmly removed the Sorting Hat from his head, hopped off the stool, and sauntered towards the Ravenclaw table, accepting the back pats and handshakes from his new housemates as if it was his due.

Sirius sat back heavily in his seat, blinking rapidly in shock, turned towards Izora and asked, "How?"

"The C-Carmine fa-family is a-al-always S-Sorted in-into R-Ravenclaw."

"How do you know that?" Remus asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"My gr-great a-aunt i-is A-Arthur's gr-grandmother."

James laughed loudly, clapped Izora on the back—she winced, he hit harder than probably intended—and leaned around her to snigger at his best friend, "I think you've been had, mate."

Sirius swore at him, crossed his arms, and turned away to sulk petulantly. Izora arched a brow, but other than that, her expression remained serene and untroubled, in fact she was quite satisfied with herself and she was sure her expression reflected that. James was still chuckling, Peter had started to snigger, and Remus was shaking his head, a small smile on his face.

–––––

Remus reflected on the pleased expression Izora had adopted as the Sorting continued. Like his friends, he'd found it surprising that she was in Gryffindor; she was so painfully shy, she avoided making eye contact, she spoke with a stutter and rarely above a whisper, and Remus had the feeling that if she would happily turn invisible if she could.

He thought that maybe her timorousness might be a result of having to share a compartment with the infamous Marauders, but the short conversation he had with Lily as they made their way to the Prefects Compartment at the front of the train had changed his opinion. According to his fellow Prefect, Izora Hallowell was exceptionally timid around everyone, including her own dormmates. Lily had admitted that the only time she'd ever seen the tall blonde even looking remotely relaxed and comfortable was with her two best friends, Galen Silverwood and Dmitri Ţepeş, two boys she'd known since first year.

Remus had never met Dmitri Ţepeş, but he did know Galen Silverwood. One of Slytherin's sixth year Prefects alongside Ursula Gaunt, Galen Silverwood was six feet tall, weighed at least fifteen stones—none of it fat—and looked like he could wrestle dragons with his bare hands. He spoke with a thick Scottish burr that had just a hint of Irish in it and he was, despite his intimidating appearance, exceptionally polite and kind. He was not afraid to dock points from his own house, defend someone from a different house if they were being bullied, and he was a fierce protector of the muggleborns and halfbloods, both in his own house and the other houses—Ursula Gaunt, a pureblood, had made a snide remark under her breath about 'mudbloods' to the other Slytherin Prefects and Galen had responded bitingly. Neither Ursula, nor the other five Slytherins had spoken much after that.

Remus had spent quite a bit of time observing him during the Prefect meeting and had even conversed with him a bit before heading to patrol his section of the Hogwarts Express. To learn that Izora could be friends with the bloke had surprised Remus, simply because Galen Silverwood was a Slytherin and she was Gryffindor, but by the time he'd returned to the compartment he shared with the blonde and his three friends, he could see why she was, especially if she'd known him since first year. Silverwood had a certain presence about him; it was soothing and protective. When you looked at him, you knew instinctively that he would watch your back. Remus could easily recognize that trait in the Slytherin because he shared it with James and Sirius.

Yes, Remus could see how a lasting friendship between a shy, timid Gryffindor girl and a calm, protective Slytherin came about. Of course, now that he thought he had a good grasp on Izora's character, she had to go throw him through a loop. No one could really imagine how dumbfounded he'd been when he returned to his friends' compartment and saw James and Sirius frantically waving their arms around, their mouths moving but no sound coming out and Peter huddle in a corner on the seat by the compartment door. Izora, quiet, timid Izora Hallowell, the girl who cringed away from being touched and blushed so brightly when she was embarrassed, had used the Leg-Locker Curse and Silencing Charm on James Potter and Sirius Black.

Remus had looked towards Izora questioningly, she'd blushed bright red and, without meeting his eyes, had stuttered out an explanation for his friends' current predicament. He had stared at her thoughtfully, trying to wrap his mind around the mental image of the blonde, who until that moment didn't seem able to hex even a fly, cursing three of the most popular boys in their year. Remus realized in that moment that when it came to Izora, there was more than meets the eye. She was a puzzle, a very curious puzzle and Remus was intrigued.

He had always liked puzzles, Remus reflected now as he sat across from her at the Gryffindor table, listening to the rest of the Sorting with half an ear and clapping whenever a first year was sorted into his house as he studied her surreptitiously.

In the hour that followed his return to the compartment to the time the Hogwarts Express had pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Remus had gotten a glimpse, a very brief glimpse, of what possibly made Izora a Gryffindor. Leaving his friends' to their well-deserved fates, Remus had taken Sirius' original seat—he made sure to keep a seat between them, to make her more comfortable—and quietly asked about the book she had in her lap. She responded tentatively, her large eyes—a lovely shade of blue-green—warily flickering from him to James and Sirius then back again. Remus was patient though—he had to be with friends like James and Sirius and Peter—and that patience paid off. The more he got her to talk about the book—a piece of muggle literature known as _The Hobbit_, the more comfortable she became; her voice, though still quiet, rose above a whisper, she stuttered less, and she lost that defensive hunch to her shoulders. She even brushed her hair out of her face, tucking the pale strands behind her ears and making these exasperated faces when the strands fell right back as she spoke excitedly about the book. Remus had even managed to get a quiet laugh from her a time or two whenever he reached over to smack James or Sirius after one or both of them made a particularly rude gesture in his direction. And each time she would cut herself of with this comical look of surprise on her face; as if the sound had startled her.

The train was almost to the station when things changed abruptly. Izora seemed to realize that she had allowed him a peek at who she really was and the thought had frightened her. Remus could do nothing as she almost visibly withdrew into herself right before his eyes before she mumbled several stuttered apologies and excuses, grabbed her school bag, her pet from the cat carrier under the seat, and her black robe, and then fled the compartment without a backwards glance.

Remus had been bewildered, his mind reeling at how quickly she'd gone from excitedly explaining _The Hobbit_ to him to running away like a scared rabbit. She had been in such a hurry to get away, she'd even forgotten to grab the book off the seat between them, where he had placed it after she'd let him flip through it.

Remus could feel the weight of the book in the pocket of his school robe where he had tucked it away after the train had reached the station. He planned on finding her on the station and giving the book back, but she proved to be a difficult person to track down. He had looked for Izora until nearly all the carriages had gone to the castle and James pointed out that she was probably already at the castle and that they would help him find her during the Feast, so long as they could get out of the bloody rain. Remus had agreed with some reluctance and the four of them hustled into one of the last carriages.

_I'll give it to her after the feast, before I round up the first years with Lily_. Remus promised himself, turning his gaze away from Izora—who had remained oblivious to his subtle scrutiny—and towards Dumbledore when the old Headmaster stood up once the last first year had been sorted.

Alas, although Izora remained ignorant, two of his best friends had not. James and Sirius had been just as subtly scrutinizing him as he studied Izora and the two troublemakers exchanged mischievous glances above the blonde's head as soon as Remus wasn't looking. Mad plots and schemes were already forming in their minds.

"To our newcomers," Dumbledore began loudly, his voice reverberating through out the Great Hall and pulling everyone's attention to himself. He smiled and stretched his arms out wide in greeting, "Welcome! And to our old students, welcome back! Another year of witchcraft and wizardry awaits you, but alas, while there is a time and place for speech-making, this is not one of them!"

That got a few scattered laughs from the students and he smiled at them, blue eyes twinkling. He clapped his hands then spread his arms out in an impossibly grand gesture, "Tuck in!"

And just like that, plates and cutlery appeared in front of the students and various dishes decorated the tables. James and Sirius whooped and began piling an obscene amount of food onto their plates, grabbing at whatever happened to be in reach. Remus shook his head with a sigh, flicking his gaze to the enchanted ceiling in an imploring manner. Honestly with their pureblood upbringing, you would expect the two of them would have better table manners, but no.

Remus snuck a glance at Izora as he filled his plate with considerably less food than his two friends and a decidedly slower pace. She seemed completely unperturbed by the two boys practically attacking their food like a pair of starving wolves—he snorted a little at that thought—and was calmly cutting a piece of roasted chicken into smaller pieces.

"Is that all you're eating?" Sirius questioned after swallowing a fairly large mouthful of potatoes. He gestured at the pieces of chicken and the greens Izora had added to her plate with his fork, "No wonder you're so skinny, dove."

Remus tried not to roll his eyes at the nickname Sirius had seen fit to bestow on the blonde. Peter had asked him, during the carriage ride to the castle why he referred to that away and Sirius's response had been, "I bet she coos in bed."

Remus felt entirely justified when he had smacked the back of Sirius's head after that. Now Remus contemplated kicking Sirius's shin under the table, but his friend was still talking, so he pulled himself from his somewhat violent musings to focus on what was being said.

"You should eat something with a little more substance, dove." Sirius was saying in what he probably thought was a sage tone of voice. "Most blokes don't like such skinny birds, you know."

_Oh Sirius, you did not just say that._

Remus set his fork down, placed his elbows on the table, and covered his face with his hands.

–––––

"Most blokes don't like such skinny birds, you know."

Izora froze with her fork halfway to her mouth and slowly, very slowly, she turned her head to stare at Sirius I'm-The-Biggest-Stupidest-Prat-In-All-Of-Hogwarts Black, her expression a cross between disbelief and outrage. He looked back at her expectantly, chewing on whatever he'd just put in his mouth. She was still holding her fork up, the piece of chicken impaled on the tines, and for a moment Izora saw herself flicking the piece of chicken from the tines and stabbing them into Sirius's arm.

_Most blokes don't like such skinny birds, you know._

_Most blokes don't like such skinny birds, you know._

_Most blokes don't like such skinny birds, you know._

The words rang inside her head, circling around and around. Her free hand tightened into a fist in her lap. She looked down at her plate, shielding her face from view with her hair.

_**Most blokes don't like such skinny birds, you know.**_

The words blurred together in her mind until they were replaced by a memory.

-_— Ice blue eyes glared, withering in their intensity, from a wrinkled face.  
"Rather thin, isn't she?"  
Izora flinched at the contempt in the creaky voice, bowed her head, and tried to shrink in on herself, to seem as small as possible under that iced over gaze. Lucrezia Malfoy was a woman who did not suffer fools, gladly or otherwise. And unfortunately, she thought her granddaughter a fool.  
Izora's mother grimaced, the expression unforgiving on her face.  
"Yes, well, you know who she takes after, Mother."  
Lucrezia sniffed haughtily, "Indeed…Still she is almost eighteen, her figure should have improved by now. You'll never be able to marry her off if with her looking like a corpse. Men don't like such skinny women." _-_—_

She could take the criticisms from her mother and her grandmother because they were family and she had no choice, she could even deal with the snide comments she sometimes got from the Slytherin girls when they saw her around Galen because she understood why they made them—Galen, despite being a halfblood, was _fit_—but Izora did not and _would not_ tolerate comments about her appearance from a boy she had met only hours ago. He knew nothing about her and only saw her as a possible notch in his bedpost.

Izora wanted to rage, she wanted to shout and throw things and shove that disgustingly full plate of food in front of him in his face. She wanted shout at him that she was a person and had _not_ been placed on this Earth for his or any other man's enjoyment, her body was her own and his or anyone else preferences for how it looked matter not at all to her, because it was _hers _and **not**_ theirs. _

She didn't do any of that though. Her pureblood upbringing and her own cowardliness kept her from do any of it. Instead, Izora clenched her teeth, inhaled deeply through her nose, forcing all the words she wanted to say and all the outrage she felt into a little box and locking it away in her personal tier of her mind labyrinth in that one breath, carefully placed her fork back on her plate—if she didn't, she _would_ stab Sirius with it—and surreptitiously looked at the four boys through the curtain of her hair; James and Peter both looked uncomfortable, glancing between her and Sirius; Remus was leaning his elbows on the table and had his face in his hands, shaking a small bit; and Sirius was staring at her, his expression unsure and actually rather cagey. He knew he'd misstepped, but he wasn't sure how and now he was a little worried about how she was going to react.

He had nothing to worry about, for as much as Izora wanted to hurt him, she couldn't. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Y-your o-op-opinion has be-been d-duly n-n-noted, M-Mr. B-Black." Her voice was completely flat, dead almost. She picked up her fork and poked at her food, no longer hungry. Her appetite had abandoned her.

–––––

Sirius stared at the side of Izora's blonde head, attempting to get her to look at him with sheer will alone, but she didn't. She kept her eyes down, focused on her plate as she prodded at her food but didn't not eating any of it. A foot collided with his shin and Sirius bit back a curse, jerking his head around to glare at Remus. His tall friend glared back at him, his expression unforgiving, pointed his fork at Izora, and mouthed;

"_Apologize. Now." _

"_How?" _Sirius mouthed back, gesturing sharply with his free hand. _"I don't even know what I did!"_

"_I don't care. Fix. It."_

Sirius growled under his breath, cleared his throat uncomfortably—he wasn't used to apologizing—and shifted in his seat, turning towards Izora a small bit. "Listen, dove-"

"_Don't._"

Sirius winced. That one word, said without a stutter, cracked like a whip. She said it with such frigidness, Sirius was surprised he hadn't been frozen solid. There was also enough steel in that one word to make an armory. She didn't meet his eyes, didn't turn her head in his direction, and for some reason that made Sirius feel like a huge prat. He glanced at his friends, seeking some sort of assistance; James looked just as unsure and awkward as Sirius felt and he kept running a hand through his messy hair; Peter looked plain uncomfortable as he fiddled with his fork, his blue eyes flicking from his food to Izora, to Sirius, to Remus, to James, back to his food, and then he shoved a forkful in his mouth because when he started to feel stressed, Peter ate and he was very obviously stressed right then; and Remus was still giving him _that _look, the one that said if he didn't clean up the mess he'd made, Sirius would find himself hexed six ways to Sunday and it would be a very painful experience for him. Merlin, even if he did manage to fix whatever he'd done with Izora, he was still going to get it later. Remus let him and James get away with a lot, but there were some things that he wouldn't tolerate. Baiting their new friend was apparently one of those things.

Damn it all. Sirius exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He chanced a glance at Izora; she was still playing with her food, not really eating it, more like repeatedly—and kind of viciously—stabbing it with her fork. That was a bit worrying…but he could do this. He was Sirius Black, a bloody Gryffindor for Merlin's sake, he could apologize for being a bleeding wanker.

"Izora."

Her hand froze mid-stab and she turned her head a touch towards him. Ha! Progress. Not much, but at least she wasn't stabbing her chicken—and most likely picturing him while she did so—anymore. Sirius shook his head to get rid of that disturbing mental image and cleared his throat;

"I…er…" Sirius faltered when she turned towards him fully, focusing those big blue-green eyes on him. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes showed everything her face didn't. They were just so large and expressive and—a sharp kick to his shin jerked him out of his stupor and Sirius shook himself. "Sorry. For…er, being a prat."

She was still staring at him and it was starting to make Sirius a little bit uncomfortable. He fidgeted—fidgeted! He never fidgets!—and scratched the back of his neck. Sirius was just about to grab her and shake her just to get some kind of reaction when she shrugged and looked back at her food.

"Th-thank you."

Sirius gawked, but when she actually took a bite of her dinner instead of viciously stabbing at it, he snorted and shook his head, a little grin tugging at his mouth. Maybe this was why she was a Gryffindor; she didn't shout and get defensive when someone insulted her; no, she just refused to speak or even look at you until you're so uncomfortable, the apology just tumbles out of your mouth.

Sirius glanced over her head at James, who looked back at him, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. James blinked owlishly and mouthed _"What the bleeding hell was that?"_

Sirius shook his head, just as bewildered as his friend, and mouthed back, _"No idea, mate. But I kind of liked it."_

"_You're mental, Pads. Completely mental." _

Sirius contemplated pointing out his best friend's unhealthy attraction to one Lily Evans, a girl renowned for her temper and her willingness to unleash it on James, decided against it and grinned at James instead before returning his attention to his food. It wasn't the same after all; James genuinely liked Lily and went out of his way to get her attention, even if was only in a negative light. Sirius was just curious about Izora; she was so quiet and shy and he wanted to know how far he could push her buttons before she snapped at him. He did it to Remus all the time. It was sort of a game to him and he really hadn't meant to be insulting when he said what he did. And he certainly hadn't expected her react the way she had. Perhaps he was too used to Moony's reactions—the taller teen usually just affected a martyred expression before smacking and/or hexing him.

Sirius didn't doubt that Izora had very much _wanted_ to hex or smack him, but something had kept her from doing so. Sirius grinned. He wasn't sure how far she could be pushed before she well and truly _snapped_, but he was very curious to find out, and after a quick glance at James, he could tell his best friend was of a like mind.

Sirius glanced at Izora from the corner of his eye, saw her calmly eating her dinner—she'd even added some more chicken to her plate—and his grin became a smirk. She was a novelty and a challenge. It was a good thing he and James loved challenges.

This year was going to be very interesting, indeed.

–––––

Sometime later when Izora was full to bursting, she pushed her empty plate away, picked up her goblet of water—she wasn't overly fond of pumpkin juice—and took a healthy sip. After Sirius's apology, the Marauders had left her mostly alone. Sirius and James had tried to engage her in conversation, but Izora was as stubborn as a mule, and she refused to acknowledge either of them. The most she had done was apologize to Peter for hexing him back on the train, to which he responded with a word of gratitude and a sweet smile understanding.

Peter was a rather curious conundrum. He wasn't as handsome or as charming as Sirius, he wasn't as athletically gifted or as funny as James, nor was he as intelligent or wry as Remus. In fact he was, to be perfectly frank, completely average. Average looks, average intelligence, average athleticism, he was just…average. And yet he was one of the most popular boys in the school.

Izora found that a bit curious and rather encouraging. She also found it a tad disheartening, because she knew that outside of the other Marauders, people only seemed to like him _because_ he was friends with James, Sirius, and Remus. The three other Marauders clearly cared about him, always including him in their conversations and jokes, teasing him and opening themselves up to be teased _by_ him. But without them, Izora doubted Peter would be where he was now on Hogwarts' social ladders. It was a sad thought because he seemed like a genuinely nice person to her.

The feast was winding down and Dumbledore stood from his seat for a third time, clapping his hands loudly to grab the attention of the students. Gradually the chatter died down and everyone focused on the Headmaster.

"Now that we have filled our bellies to our heart's content, I must once more ask you for attention for a few moments while I give out a few notices before we may retire to our beds." Dumbledore smiled serenely. "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me remind you that all students caught wandering the halls after the nine o'clock curfew, will receive detention." His blue eyes peered over his glasses and seemed to focus on the four boys innocently sitting around Izora, "He would also like me to remind you that the list of banned items has been extended to some two hundred and twenty-nine, and now includes dungbombs and nose-biting teacups."

Sirius and James sniggered on either side of her, Remus seemed to be biting back a smile, and Peter was grinning down at the now empty table in front of him. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled from above his glasses as he regarded them.

"The complete list can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office if anyone would like to check it." He paused, letting that sink in before continuing in a more serious tone. "As ever, _I _would like to remind you all that the Dark Forest in the grounds is forbidden to all students."

James, Sirius, and Peter glanced at Remus, who looked particularly self-deprecating and exasperated with his friends in that moment, and quickly muffled their laughter. Izora arched a brow at them, more than a little confused. How curious. She had the distinct impression that she was missing out on some kind of private joke between the four. She glanced over at Dumbledore and her other brow joined its brethren near her hairline when she saw him regarding the Marauders with clear amusement.

"Hogsmeade is also prohibited to all those below third year." Dumbledore continued then clapped his hands and smiled at his students. "And now it is late, and I must remind you all how important it is to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. To bed now!"

Izora was up and out of her seat before the last word had even left the Headmaster's mouth. She heard Sirius and James calling out to her, but she ignored them and allowed herself to get lost in the sea of bodies as her fellow students left the Great Hall, en masse. It was a highly uncomfortable situation for her, but better than being mobbed by the Marauders.

She saw Galen standing near the end of the Slytherin table, calling out and gesturing to the first years to come to him, and she waved when his gaze snagged hers through the crowd. He flashed a quick smile and raised his hand in acknowledgement before the group of first years grabbed his attention once again. Izora quickly lost sight of her best friend as the swell of bodies carried her from the Great Hall into the Entrance Hall. A very warm hand caught hers and pulled her through the crowd, forcing Izora to stumble along until she broke clear of the crowd, near the bottom of the staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower, and stumbled right into the arms her rescuer.

"I thought you weren't one of those girls who fawned over me, dove."

Sirius Black, of course. Who else would it be? If Izora were a less mature person, she would have cursed, stomped her foot, and shook her fist at the heavens.

_Why? Why do the fates seem intent on throwing the Marauders and me together? _Izora wondered sullenly, jerking away from Sirius and brushing imaginary dust from the front of her robes, surreptitiously looking at Sirius from beneath her lashes. He had that ridiculous tongue-in-cheek grin on his face and his grey eyes were bright with mischief. Izora wanted to smack him. Preferably with something heavy, like a book or maybe a tree branch.

James was also grinning at her from where he stood beside Sirius, but his grin was more like a puppy, eager and excited to play. Izora wanted to smack him too, despite the adorable dimple in his left cheek. Peter was with them too and he was looking at her with an expression that was equal parts curious, unsure, and slightly hopeful.

And while Izora would never actually curse, stomp her foot, and shake her fist at the heavens, she did look at the three young men before her in a martyred manner and all but whined; "Why w-w-won't y-y-you l-lot l-leave me a-al-alone?"

Sirius reared back as if she'd slapped him, clutched at his chest dramatically, and gasped as if she'd just dealt him some great injury. "How you wound me so, dove! My heart is completely crushed by your rejection. Isn't your heart just crushed, Prongs? What about yours, Wormy?"

"Completely, Pads." James wheezed in a similar tone to his best friend. He had hand over his heart and was looking at her with such a hurt expression on his face, it was almost believable.

"Irreparably." Peter added, gazing at Izora forlornly.

Oh, now wasn't that just brilliant, even Peter had joined in on his friends' idiocy. They were all ridiculous. Izora rolled her eyes, turned away from the three idiots, and made her way up the stairs without a word. Galen's mother always said that if you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all. It was good, sound advice, especially at that moment, because Izora knew if she opened her mouth, some very unladylike curses would come out.

She skipped over the trip-step and bit back a soft sigh when she heard the three boys' footsteps following her up the stairs. They were like dogs with a bone as the muggle saying went (she would realize the irony in that thought some months later).

"You know," Sirius commented lightly as he appeared on her left, spun around, and began walking up the stairs backwards. "I get the distinct impression that you," He pointed at her emphatically, "Don't like us."

"Wh-whatever g-gave y-you th-_that_ i-idea?" Izora asked drily, sidestepping around him when he nearly tripped. "Y-your c-com-company is j-just s-sc-_scintillating_."

James popped up on her right and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Sarcasm, Izzy dearest?" He quipped, placing his free hand over his chest and feigning offense. His hazel eyes sparkled impishly from behind his spectacles as he looked at her. "How uncouth. Wasn't that just uncouth, Mr. Padfoot?"

"Indubitably, Monsieur Prongs." Sirius agreed as he happily bounded a few steps ahead of them. He spun around to address Peter, who was now walking on Izora's left side. "What say you, Monsieur Wormtail? Do you find the mademoiselle's behavior uncouth?"

"Quite, Messrs. Prongs and Padfoot." Peter replied cheekily, tucking his hands in his pockets and grinning slightly.

_Oh, I'll show you uncouth, you pompous louts._ Izora thought irritably. She didn't realize she'd stuttered that out loud until Sirius tossed his head back and barked out a laugh, James and Peter joining him. Izora scowled, lifted her chin a bit and, shrugging James's arm off her shoulders, she stomped up the stairs past Sirius in a huff.

"I believe we've offended the lady, mates." She heard Sirius comment mirthfully from behind her, followed by more laughter. Izora swore nastily under her breath, reached in her pocket, her hand curling around the hilt of her wand, and she contemplated pulling it out and hexing them. Nothing too terrible of course, perhaps just a trip jinx—if they fell down the stairs because of it, so much the better. Maybe they would leave her alone then. Izora highly doubted it though as the three boys caught up to her, James and Peter walking on either side of her and Sirius walking backwards in front of her—if he kept doing that, Izora wouldn't _need_ to use a tripping jinx on him, he'll end up falling all on his lonesome. And probably taking her down with him since he was in front of her. _Bloody wonderful._

"Really though, Izzy, we're not such bad blokes." James wheedled with a charming smile, "What's the harm in befriending us?"

Izora rolled her eyes in response and kept walking. She could think of several reasons why befriend the Marauders would be harmful. She had spent the last five years at Hogwarts being inconspicuous, making her way through school in as unremarkable a manner as she could. Izora tried very hard not to make waves or draw unnecessary attention to herself and becoming mates with the bleeding _Marauders_ would be like lighting a bonfire above her head and shouting; _"Look at me! Look at me! Here I am! Come and get me!"_

Izora mental shook her head; she had been taught from a young age that she would have to guard herself, to keep others at a distance and to hide her gift because if the wrong people were to get wind of what she could do…Izora grimaced. It would end badly for everything and everyone she held dear. It was a lonely existence, but she had Dmitri and Galen and she knew they would always have her back.

And yet…She glanced at the three boys walking around her, watched as Peter said something to Sirius and Sirius respond by putting the shorter boy in a headlock while James just laughed and laughed at the two of them before hollering over the banister at Remus, who was leading the first years up the stairs with Lily a few levels below them and the Prefect responding with a sort of exasperated acceptance while Lily burst into a rant at James for being so uncivilized and how shouting down the stairs was reprehensible behavior and when she got up there he was going to be so sorry. This effectively terrified the first years and completely delighted James.

The Marauders, all four of them, were so full of life, so very carefree and seemingly untroubled, and Izora wondered what it would be like to be their friend. And Lily, who was always been so kind and always went out of her way to be friendly, Izora wondered what it would be like to have her as a friend, to be able to talk to her about the things she couldn't really talk to Galen and Dmitri about—they were _boys_ after all and there was just some things Izora had to keep to herself if she wanted to save all of them from embarrassment.

The ache that suddenly developed in Izora's chest startled her and she rubbed at the space above her left breast absentmindedly, a frown tugging the corners of her lips down. She had felt this ache before, several years ago when she was boarding the train at the beginning of her second year and had seen a mother fuss over her daughter—something Izora had never experienced. It was an ache caused by longing for something that could never happen.

Izora sighed and let her hand fall from her chest. Even if she truly did want to befriend the Marauders and Lily and she wasn't just having a fit of momentary insanity—it _did _happen on occasion—Izora knew she couldn't. The only way for Izora to get through her last years at Hogwarts unscathed and undiscovered was to retain her anonymity and she couldn't do that if she was friends with five of the school's most well-known students.

She had to protect her gift at all costs, no matter how alone she felt at times.

* * *

Izora shouldered the sixth year girls' dormitory door open, shut the door behind her, and shuffled over to bed furthest from the door. She, along with three of the four Marauders, had arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait shortly after she reached the decision to continue keeping the Marauders and Lily at a distance, and she'd immediately headed towards the stairwell that led to the Gryffindor girls' dormitory without a word to the three boys. James and Sirius had tried to cajole her into sitting around the fire with them, but she'd rejected their offer with the stuttered excuse that she was tired.

It wasn't a lie, Izora was actually quite exhausted, but she knew she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. The first week back was always the hardest on Izora—she needed to reacclimatize herself to living with four other girls and relearn all of their different nuances. She also needed that one week to adjust to the nuances of the castle itself—it didn't matter what anyone said, she was convinced Hogwarts Castle was at least mildly sentient, it _had _housed over a thousand witches and wizards for the well over a millennium after all. Needless to say, Izora got very little sleep that first week of school.

She wandered, or rather stumbled, over to her bed and all but belly-flopped onto it, smooshing her face against the cool pillow. Izora sighed, mumbled a quiet word of gratitude to the house elves for wiping any residual memories or magic from her bed linens, rolled onto her back to stare at the canopy over her head, and started when anger chittering erupted from the pocket of her robe. She hurriedly sat up, fished Draci out from the inside the magically enlarged pocket, and sat the irate pine marten in her lap.

Draci growled, bared his sharp little teeth at her to express his displeasure at being squished beneath her, and jumped from her lap, scurrying over to the plate filled with berries, nuts, and fish and the bowl of water in front of her bedside table. Izora was sure that the plate and the bowl hadn't been there when she entered the room a few minutes ago and she whispered another word of thanks to the house-elves—and the castle itself—before forcing herself to get off her bed and change out of her school clothes. Her pajamas were far more comfortable than her uniform, even if she wasn't going to be sleeping in them.

She stripped off her gloves and put them on the bedside table, kicked off her school shoes and nudged them beneath her bed, removed her wand from her pocket and put it beside her gloves on the nightstand. After that, Izora moved to her trunk at the foot of her bed, flipped it open and methodically pulled out her favorite pair of pajama bottoms—stolen from Dmitri back in fourth year—from her trunk followed by the Montrose Magpies jersey she'd snitched from Galen in third year—it was still too large on her. Clothes in hand, she slipped into the loo to change and go through her normal nightly ritual. Standing in front of the large mirror above the sink, she pulled her hair back into a simple fishtail braid, washed her face, and stripped out of her robes and school uniform.

Once she was dressed in her nightclothes, Izora folded her clothes, exited the bathroom, placed her folded uniform on top of her closed trunk, and sprawled out on her stomach on her bed with her hands tucked under her pillows. Draci scrambled up the foot of the bed a few moments later, slunk across the duvet, and wiggled under her armpit, cuddling against the side of her chest. Izora turned her head, resting her cheek on her pillow, and Draci licked her face, leaving a lovely streak of fish-scented saliva across her nose.

"Bloody weasel." The blonde grimaced, sitting up and wiping the slobber from her face with the back of her hand. Draci rolled onto his back, kicking his legs as he chirred, coughed, and barked—laughing and mocking her in his weasel language. Rolling her eyes, Izora giggled and tickled his furry belly with her fingers, laughing a little louder when he playfully batted at her hand, chittering and chirring at her.

Izora and Draci were startled from their play by the dormitory door opening, emitting the other four sixth year Gryffindor girls. Draci flipped over onto his feet and puffed himself up, growling and snarling. Izora shushed him, running her hand down his back as she sat up and leaned against her headboard as the other girls walked further into the room, Dorcas closing the door behind them.

"Hello, Izora." Lily greeted the blonde cheerfully as she walked over to the bed to Izora's right. "Are you going to bed already?"

Izora fingered the end of her braid over her shoulder and nodded shyly, "Y-yes. G-goodnight L-Lily, M-Marlene, Al-Alice, and D-Dorcas."

The other girls wished her goodnight in return as they prepared for bed themselves and Izora drew the curtains around her bed closed, slipped under the covers, and pretended to fall asleep while waiting for her dormmates to actually do so.

"Did you see the Marauders sitting with Izora at dinner?" Marlene asked, keeping her voice quiet. Izora wrinkled her nose—Marlene always was a bit of a gossip.

"It was rather curious." Alice mused and Izora heard some shuffling followed by the thump of something falling and her cursing quietly. "Blast it all. I _hate_ this bloody trunk."

That explained the thump. Alice's trunk was, for some reason, always tossing her things out of it whenever it was opened. No one could really figure out why. Izora listened as Alice continued her train of thought before her mutinous trunk interrupted her.

"I mean, Izora is a very sweet girl, but she so shy and quiet too. I can't possibly imagine why those four boys would have any interest in her."

"She _did_ sit with them on the train." Dorcas's soft, demure voice pointed out from Izora's left where the blonde could hear her fixing her bed. "I was in the compartment across from theirs, sitting with Hestia Jones and Belladonna Tooky."

"Really? What did you see?" Marlene asked eagerly. Izora could practically picture the other blonde's expression, excited for a tidbit of gossip, and Izora rolled her eyes slightly. Draci seemed to be of the same opinion, because he chuffed.

"Well, I didn't see anything really. The only reason I knew even knew they were all in the same compartment was because I saw the Marauders through the door when Izora left to change into her uniform."

Marlene huffed in apparent exasperation and whined a bit, "Oh please, Dorcas, you must have at least _heard_ something. You were across the bloody way for Merlin's sake."

"Well…"

"Leave it, Marlene." Lily said sternly as she apparently came from the loo. "What Izora does or who she decides to associate with is none of our business and no reason to gossip over."

"Come off it, Lily." Marlene shot back snidely. "Like you don't want to know why the some of the fittest blokes in Hogwarts were hanging out with Izora the Rabbit. Especially _James._"

_Izora the Rabbit?_ Izora blinked rapidly, stunned stupid by what Marlene had just called her. _Is that what they think of me?_

"Don't call her that, Marlene!" Lily's sharp voice prevented Izora from lingering on the matter of the moniker she'd unknowingly been giving, apparently ignoring Marlene's jab about James. "You have no right to call Izora such a horrid thing just because she is an intensely private and quiet person. Especially when she's done absolutely _nothing_ to you."

"Yeah, yeah." Marlene replied dismissively before returning her attention to Dorcas. "Tell us what you heard, Dorcas."

Izora heard Lily huff and mutter something about gossipy, disrespectful bints before it sounded like she climbed into bed.

Dorcas hummed for a second then replied in wary tone, "Um, well…there did seem to be some sort of incident when Dmitri Ţepeş-"

"That really rude sixth year Hufflepuff boy?" Alice cut in quickly. "The one that told Harriet Walsh from Ravenclaw to shove off and then hexed her when she didn't? That Dmitri Ţepeş?"

Izora's memory served up a tall young woman with fair skin, long dark hair, dark eyes and a trim figure. Harriet Walsh, now in her seventh year was a Ravenclaw that was, _ahem_, quite fond of Hogwarts' male population. She was extremely dogmatic and when she wanted something, she went after it and refused to give up until she had it. It made her a brilliant witch, but also a bit of a nightmare for the blokes that went to school with her. Terms like _taken_ or _not interested_ or even _girlfriend_, meant very little to Harriet and when she wanted a bloke, she went after him with the same unyielding intensity that she used in her studies. And somehow Dmitri had ended up on her radar last year. Harriet had pursued him relentlessly and, no matter what Dmitri did to deter her, she wouldn't leave him alone. At least not until he told her to piss off and that she was the last bird in this school that he would ever even _think_ about shagging.

Natural, Harriet retaliated and quite brutally. Dmitri ended up spending three days in the Hospital Wing and earned two weeks of detention after Harriet mysteriously ended up with fluorescent pink skin, neon orange and lime green feathers for hair, and a matching beak. He had taken the blame for Harriet's condition despite the fact that everyone who had witnessed the altercation never saw him draw his wand.

Izora smiled a secretively to herself. When she and Galen had visited Dmitri in the Hospital Wing later that day, he had stated that the next time she wanted to defend his honor, she should do so in a manner that didn't earn him so many detentions. She had apologized, but had gotten to admit that it was certainly some of her finest work; much better than the time she'd actually giving Ursula Gaunt chartreuse colored scales and fuchsia hair for calling Galen a filthy mudblood.

She was pulled from her memories of that day by Marlene sudden exclamation.

"She _hexed_ them?!"

Apparently, Izora had missed quite a bit during her trip down memory lane. That was unfortunate, she was curious about what Dorcas had seen from her compartment.

"_Shhh!_" Dorcas hissed back and Izora could imagine her shooting worried glances at the curtains around her bed. "I don't know what she did exactly. There was just a lot of hand gestures and wand waving after she put that fire out and sent Dmitri away. All I know it that one minute James and Sirius were standing up and the next they fell back into their seats like they'd had their legs kicked out from them."

"She's a lot braver than anyone believes." Lily stated firmly, apparently not as disconnected from the conversation as she seemed. Izora felt a rush of warmth towards the redhead and she smiled to herself, silently thanking the redhead.

That warmth died slightly when Marlene let out a quiet scoff.

"I'll believe _that_ when I see it."

"Oh you will." Lily assured passionately, "And I doubt you'll like it when you do."

Marlene scoffed again, but didn't respond in any other way. Izora held her breath, listening intently as the girls settled down in their beds and dropped off into slumber one by one. Even after the last of them had fallen asleep, Izora remained lying in her bed for a few more hours, her mind whirling and going over everything she'd heard. It was a lot to think about, but she had time.

* * *

**Author's Note: Finally, chapter two is up after...*checks last update*...2 weeks! Anyhooties, not much action in this chapter, but a lot of interesting things happen, like we get to see more of Galen and Dmitri than the other version and Peter has more of a presence (and he'll have an even bigger presence in the next chapter), and a little flashback of Izora's home life (also will be more of in the next chapter). So anyhooties, I really, really hope y'all like this chapter!**

**PS - I'm trying to use British colloquialisms in this story, but there's only so much help Google can provide so if anyone has any tips or suggestions, please send them my way. I'd be forever grateful. Also if anyone would like to suggest any music, books, TV shows, and movies that were around during the Marauders Era (70s) that would be awesome! Muggle stuff will be playing a large role when it comes to Lily/Izora bonding =D**

**BIG THANKS to everyone that faved, alerted, and reviewed! You are all amazing and you brighten my day every time I check my email and see those little notifications.**

**EDIT 4/10/15: Forgot to add this bit-**

*******_Emulgeo- _Latin for 'Dry Out' according to Google Translate. As a spell it literally does as the name suggests, drying out whatever the casts wishes, in this case rain soaked clothes. **


	3. Chapter 3: First Day of Classes pt 1

Chapter Three: Late Night Visits and Breakfast with the Marauders

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts Castle, Scotland, Great Britain;  
2__nd__ of September 1976_

–––––

It was near two in the morning when Izora sat up and moved the covers aside, careful to keep from disturbing Draci as he slept curled up in a tight ball on her pillow. She peeked out from between her bed curtains, checking to make sure the other girls were truly asleep, slipped soundlessly from her bed when she saw they were all slumbering deeply. The unique and familiar buzz of the castle's presence vibrated through her as soon as her bare feet connected with the cold stone floor and she tensed, closing her eyes and taking a moment to quell her gift before it overwhelmed her. Precious moments ticked by as Izora stood frozen beside her bed and breathed deeply, waiting as the buzz steadily receded to an easily ignorable background hum.

Once the buzz had faded to a hum, Izora opened her eyes, picked up her wand from her bedside table, tucking it into the pocket of her pajama bottoms, and made her way to the door on silent feet. Normally the door creaked when it was opened, but Izora had been sneaking out of the dorm for years and she knew just how to open and close the door without making a sound. Using those skills now, she cracked the door, crept onto the landing through the small opening, and closed the door behind her with a barely audible click of the latch. She held her breath, straining her ears, but when nothing happened after a few moments, she slunk down the girls' staircase to the common room.

The common room was empty and a fire was still going in the fireplace, but Izora bypassed the overstuffed couches and armchairs that formed a half-circle around the fire and instead made her way over towards the large window that faced the castle grounds. She popped the latch, swung open the window, and climbed onto the wide ledge, letting her legs hang over the side. Izora closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as the night breeze wafted over her, swirling around her and playing with a few strands of hair that had escaped her braid.

She kept her eyes closed for a few more minutes, simply enjoying the cool breeze on her face and listening to the faint sounds of the night before she opened her eyes and turned her gaze upward, to the myriad of stars that shined in the inky sky. The half-moon stared at her from among the winking stars and Izora reached her hand out as if to touch it. Izora had always loved the moon and the stars as a child—the night sky was so very large, seemingly endless, and it had comforted her when she felt alone. Izora moved her hand, fingers gliding through the air and appearing to stroke the rounded side of the first quarter moon, and a memory came to her.

-_— "Look there, sweeting, see that star shining more brightly than the others?"  
Izora strained her eyes, squinting and following the line of her father's finger as he pointed at the night sky. When she found the star in question, she smiled and nodded happily.  
"I see it, Papa."  
"That's Sirius, the Dog Star and the brightest star in the sky. And over there is the constellation Orion."  
Izora watched with wide, fascinated eyes as her father traced the constellation with his finger, listening with rapt attention as he pointed out several other stars and constellations. Her father's work often kept him from home and Izora cherished each night they were able to spend together. She looked away from the stars to stare up at him instead.  
"Papa? Are the stars the same everywhere?"  
Alexandros Hallowell smiled and kneeled before his daughter as he replied. "Yes, my little Izora. If you're feeling alone, just look to the stars, because no matter how far apart we are, as long as you can see the stars, you'll know I'm looking with you."  
"Because they're the same?" Izora asked innocently and she smiled happily when her father laughed.  
Alexandros brushed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead, "Just so, sweeting, just so." _-_—_

Even though five years of Astronomy classes proved her father mostly wrong—depending on the time of year and the latitude, people saw different constellations all the time and her father's job had him traveling around the world—as Izora looked at the stars now and pretended that she could touch the moon, she was comforted; hundreds or thousands of miles could be between Izora and her father, as long as she could see the stars, she would know her father was out there looking at them too.

It was a silly and childish notion, but it made her feel loved. That was why Izora continued to gaze at the inky sky, silently mouthed the names of the stars and constellations she knew, idly tracing those same constellations with her fingertips, and thought about her father. She was completely unaware of the eyes that watched her curiously.

–––––

Lounging back on the couch directly in front of the fireplace and hidden from view, Remus watched Izora as she sat at the window, hand held out to the night sky. Unable to sleep, he had come down to the common room around midnight, hoping to tire himself with a book. And the book in question just so happened to belong to the very girl he was currently studying, the same book he had meant to return to her after the feast and before he went to help Lily with the first years. Unfortunately, Izora had managed to slip away from the Gryffindor table before he could so much as open his mouth and when he'd tried calling her name to get her attention, she either didn't hear or ignored him. After what happened during the feast, Remus was betting on the latter.

Thus he resolved to give her the book when he reached the common room with the first years, only to learn from James and Sirius that she had already retired to bed for the night. Remus had almost, _almost_, stomped his foot and thrown his hands in the air in exasperation. But he was much too proper and instead he calmly sat down beside Peter, rested his elbows on his knees, covered his face with his hands, and cursed.

This reaction had, of course, intrigued his three best friends and they proceeded to pester him until he explained why he was so desperate to speak with Izora. _The Hobbit_ had been a gift from her father and Remus knew just from the conversation they'd had on the train, that the book meant the world to her. Sirius, James, and Peter had then proceeded to assure him that they would help get the book back to the shy blonde. Though a bit leery of the looks he saw James and Sirius exchanging, Remus was also grateful for their help.

But that didn't really explain what he was doing in the common room at two in the morning with Izora's muggle book on his chest as he laid back on the couch. You see, Remus had, what his James and Sirius like to call, a _furry little problem._ This problem so to speak, came about once a month during the full moon and the week leading up to it was often hard on Remus. It was just his luck that the first day of his sixth year took place exactly one week before the full moon. Needless to say, Remus was unable to sleep and seeking respite, he'd grabbed Izora's book from his bedside table—where he'd placed it so he remember it in the morning—and made his way down to the common room to read. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been curious and a little eager to read the book himself.

Remus was more than halfway through the book when he heard the soft sound of bare feet on stone. She moved very quietly, but Remus had exceptional hearing and he looked up just as Izora was descending the last step. She didn't look in his direction, or any direction really, as she moved soundlessly through the common room, gliding towards the window that faced the grounds like a pale haired wraith. Remus could only watch as she opened the window and climbed onto the ledge, letting her legs dangle over the side.

The longer she sat there staring at the stars, the more Remus felt like he was intruding on a personal moment. It was distinctly uncomfortable and he forced himself to close the book, get to his feet, and take a few steps towards the window. When there was less than a handful of feet between himself and the blonde sitting in the window, Remus cleared his throat quietly to get her attention.

He watched her jump slightly, gasping quietly before she twisted her upper body around to face him. Remus froze, faltering mid-step, and his mouth went dry. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a loose braid that hung over her shoulder and big blue-green eyes blinked owlishly at him from her pale face.

Remus had seen her face before, back on the train when she would brush errant strands from her eyes while they talked about her book, but it was different seeing her with hair pulled back the way it was now. It opened up her face and almost against his will, Remus's eyes roved over her features. Her large doe-eyes were framed in pale lashes under equally pale brows and made all the more pronounced by the dark smudges underneath them, her nose was narrow with a slight upturned tip, her mouth was small and her lips were full, but had a somewhat pursed look to them, and her high cheekbones were made all the sharper by her hollowed cheeks.

She wasn't classically beautiful like Marlene McKinnon or stunningly gorgeous like Lily Evans, two girls who were considered the most attractive in their year, but Izora was pretty. She possessed a certain haunting loveliness that was captivating, yet distant; like the moon.

Now that was a rather uncomfortable comparison.

Remus took a deep breath, looked down at the book he still held in one hand, forcefully turning his gaze away from her, and rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Sorry," He apologized sheepishly, subconsciously slouching slightly to appear smaller under her wide-eyed gaze. He glanced up at her, the left side of his mouth quirking in an awkward half-smile, and he rubbed the back of his neck again. "I didn't mean to startle you."

–––––

"I didn't mean to startle you."

Izora couldn't even begin to count the number of times Dmitri had said the same thing after he'd given her a fright. Her response was always the same too; "_And when you do startle me to death, you can put "I didn't mean to startle her" on my tombstone_."

Izora would have laughed at the parallel, except her heart was beating against her ribs so hard, she was a bit worried it would try to break out. She put her hand against her chest, above her heart, just in case it decided to do just that and continued to gawk at him like a dizzy fool. It was hard not to. The light from the fireplace bathed him in its golden glow, throwing one half of his scarred face into sharp relief while shadowing the other half. It was a startling visage and Izora was having a hard time looking away from him. Especially when he turned his head just the slightest bit and the firelight caught his eyes and they flashed amber. Looking into his eyes, Izora very much felt like a rabbit staring down a wolf.

Oh the irony.

Her heartbeat quickened and she swallowed thickly, pressing her hand against her chest more firmly and ordering her heart to quit trying to jump out of her chest.

_Izora the Rabbit indeed._

Just how long had been watching her? Was he in the common room before or after she'd come down from the girls' dormitory? What if he'd been in the common room the whole time? Morgana's britches, she'd never been so caught off guard in her life. Her eyes suddenly widened as a new thought struck her. Oh Morgana, had he seen her pretending to touch the stars and the moon like some sort of nutter? Wouldn't that just be the icing on this giant cake of mortification and embarrassment?

"I was actually here before you came down."

Izora startled as if she'd been hit with lightning, his raspy voice shocking her right out her internal ramblings. She realized too late that she'd spoken all those pesky thoughts out loud. _Bugger. _The left side of Remus's mouth quirked up even further, his crooked grin widening as he stared at her, amber eyes amused.

"And," He added, his crooked half-smile widening. "I don't think you're a nutter for trying to touch the stars."

Well, _bugger it all_.

He chuckled quietly—a deep raspy sound that made the hair on the back of her neck rise—and Izora blushed brightly, furiously ordering her brain to _just stop_ making her mouth sprout out whatever nonsense popped into her head.

_Morgana, how much more mortifying could this situation get?_ She moaned mentally, covering her burning face with her hands. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Or maybe she could just jump out the window? Certainly the hundred or so foot drop from the window to the ground below would cure all her ills?

In front of her, Remus chuckled again, quickly covering it up with a cough when she peeked at him from between her fingers. Izora wrinkled her nose and lowered her hands slightly to shoot him a look of mild reproach. He smiled that ridiculous half smile, the left side of his mouth pulling up higher than the right, and Izora felt her blush deepen and her indignation swell.

He was laughing at her. Izora let her hands fall completely from her face, wrinkling her nose further, and pursed her lips. He found her embarrassment humorous. Well, Izora was glad she could provide him with some amusement…Not.

_Bloody git_.

Clearing her throat, Izora pointed looked away from him, pulled her legs up, turning around on the ledge, and slid to the ground, her bare feet touching the cold stone. Remus tilted his head, watching her with amusement and curiosity, and a strand of his sandy blonde hair fell across his eyes. Izora crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her hands in her armpits, and looked at her bare feet peeking out from beneath the long hem of her sleep pants. She was suddenly very aware she was alone with Remus Lupin, one fourth of the infamous _Marauders_, in nothing but her nightclothes. While he was—Izora chanced a quick glance, looking him up and down, then back down at her feet—still wearing his uniform; his black slacks rumpled, white collared shirt untucked, the top two buttons undone, his tie loose around his neck, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

They stood in a not-quite comfortable silence, neither really sure what to do in the peculiar situation they found themselves in. Izora shifted from foot to foot, opened her mouth to say something, anything—silence didn't usually bother her, but for some reason this one made her antsy—and closed her mouth with a soft click when nothing came out.

Across from her, Remus cleared his throat. Izora flicked her eyes in his direction and saw him rubbing the back of his neck, something he seemed to do when he was uncomfortable or feeling awkward. She dropped her gaze and her eyes snagged on the book he held in his other hand. He had shifted slightly, and now Izora could vaguely make out the cover of the book in the firelight.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise and she exclaimed without a thought. "M-My b-book!"

–––––

Remus jumped a bit, startled by her voice, and glanced down at the book he still held, twisting his wrist to look at the front cover. The red and gold gilt runic inscription and the stylized road-going-into-forest-in-front-of-mountains illustration embossed in gold gilt on the green simulated leather stared back at him.

"Oh." He shook his head and offered the book to her with a sheepish smile, "Right, you left it on the seat when you…" He trailed off and cleared his throat awkwardly, once again rubbing the back of his neck.

"F-f-fled th-the com-compartment l-like a sc-scared r-r-rabbit?" Izora offered him a wry little smile, taking a few small steps forward and reaching for the book.

Remus returned her smile with a crooked one of his own as her hands closed around the edges, their fingers brushing. Izora sucked in a sharp breath and recoiled, clutching her hands to her chest and blinking rapidly, her face going slack. Remus frowned in confusion and took a step forward, his expression concerned.

"Izora? Are you alright?"

Her lips trembled and she turned her face away from him, clenching her eyes shut. "F-f-fine."

"Are you sure?" Remus took another step, cautiously reaching out to touch her shoulder, "Do you need to sit down?"

"I-I'm f-f-fine!" She stated again, her voice going up an octave, and she shied away from him. "J-j-just a-a s-s-sudden he-headache."

Right a headache, and he turned into a fluffy bunny every full moon. Remus frowned but didn't push—everyone was allowed their secrets, he knew that better than anyone else—taking a few small steps back to give her some space. Her face was strained and she held her stiffly, shouldered hunched, arms held rigidly at her sides, clenching her fists so tightly, her knuckles looked ready to tear through the thin skin. He sat down on the arm of a nearby armchair, unconsciously flexing his hands around the book he still held as he waited for Izora's "headache" to subside.

–––––

_Hurts! Hurts hurts hurts! Huurrrttts! _

Izora's mind screamed at her and she swallowed convulsively. She was breathing too quickly, in quiet pants, and her heart was beating too slowly, pounding against her ribs like a hammer on an anvil. Gods, she was so stupid. It had been ages since she touched someone's bare skin with her own. It had just been a feather light touch, barely a brush of her fingers against his, but it was enough for her gift.

Sweat beaded her hairline, her muscles spasmed, her knees shook, and for one terrifying moment, Izora thought she would collapse. She strained and remained upright with sheer will alone. She couldn't fall down, because if she did, Remus would rush to her aid—it just the kind of person he was—and he would touch her and then it would be so much worse. She would actually _see_ instead of whatever was currently happening to her.

She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. It felt like something was clawing at her throat and she was choking on blood—there was a distinct coppery taste flooding her mouth. Fire bathed her limps and Izora swayed slightly, a whimper forcing its away out of her tightly clamped mouth.

—_Muscles tore, flesh burned  
And pain, so much pain  
Blinding white hot agony  
Darkness encroached followed by more pain  
And fear, cloying, choking fear  
Claws rent through skin, blood spurted  
Snarls and growls pierced the air  
Everything was suddenly so bright…—_

"_Izora? Izora!"_

Someone was calling her name, the deep voice panicked and worried, and there was a heavy weight on her shoulders, as if something was weighing her down. Izora swayed, moaning quietly in pain, and forced her eyes to open. Her vision blurred and she shook her head, blinking rapidly. She licked her lips, tasted copper, and reached up with a shaking hand, brushing it across her mouth and the underside of her nose. Her hand came away streaked with red and she realized belatedly that her nose had started to bleed. And that she had somehow ended up in a crumbled heap on the floor. _Bugger._

The voice was still calling out to her and Izora sluggishly turned her head towards the deep rasp, forcing herself to focus on the blur that entered her field of view. She blinked and suddenly Remus's apprehensive face came into crystal clear focus. Izora found herself distracted by his eyes, absentmindedly noting the tiny, tiny flecks of green in the amber depths.

_Pretty eyes, _she mused vaguely. _Pretty, pretty eyes._

"Izora."

She liked the way he said her name, all raspy and deep. Remus's face blurred and for a split second, Izora was staring into the bright golden-amber eyes of a wolf. She blinked and she was looking at Remus's very much human face one more. Izora blinked again, thinking that she might see the wolf again, but Remus's scarred face remained. Wasn't that just curious?

Izora shook her head slightly. It was official, she has finally lost her mind completely. How wonderful.

"Are you okay, Izora?" He spoke slowly, enunciating the words carefully as if he were concerned she had become hard of hearing.

Izora frowned, her mind still muddled from her episode. She'd never had a vision, if it could even be called one, like that before. When she touched a person, she saw her visions in two ways; from the perspective of whoever she touched, as if she was seeing through their eyes—she felt what they felt, saw what they saw, heard what they heard, she was, in a way, _that_ person—and from third-person perspective, as if she was an invisible observer and was merely watching the person in her vision. She experienced both perspectives simultaneously, which was why her gift—more like curse—was so hard on her. She was figuratively being torn in two or at least that was what it felt like.

It was different when her fingers brushed Remus's. She certainly _felt_ everything, felt invisible claws tearing at her skin, felt her muscles burn, felt the overwhelming pain and fear, but she didn't _see_ anything. It had been completely black, as if someone had covered her eyes. Izora looked down at her arms and absently brushed her hand over one of them, checking for the phantom wounds. Vividly, she pictured the gaping claw marks spanning the length of the slender appendage, blood gushing from the injuries, even though she knew for a fact she _hadn't _seen such a thing in her vision.

Hands squeezed her shoulders, pulling Izora's attention away from the imaginary cuts. She looked, meeting the concerned gaze of the young man that had caused her current dilemma. She blinked and croaked out;

"H-Hi."

Relief flooded his scarred features and he let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes briefly with a muttered, "Bloody hell." Then he shook his head, opened his eyes, and pinned her in place with his searching gaze. "Are you alright?"

"Y-y-yes." Izora replied and not very convincingly if the skeptical look Remus was giving her was any indication. She felt a light trickle of blood come from her nose and she pressed the back of her hand against the underside of her nose, grimacing slightly. Ick, she hated nosebleeds.

"Here, use this." Remus released the hold he hand on her shoulders, removed his tie from his neck and held it out to her. She took the red and gold fabric from him with her free hand—careful not to touch him—wadded it up, and pressed the fabric to her nose. He watched her carefully and asked, "Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"

"Bo." The word came out muffled and nasally. Izora grimaced again and shook her head to get her point across. She didn't want to go to the Hospital Wing and cause an unnecessary fuss, which is exactly what Madame Pomfrey would do. The nose bleed would pass in a few minutes and she was sure she would be able to get to her feet…eventually. She just needed to rest while her brain compartmentalized everything that had just happened.

"Are you sure?" Remus persisted, clearly not believing that she was alright. Izora nodded emphatically.

"'m f-f-fine."

"You keep saying that," Remus pointed out, his lips twitching up into wry smile, "But I can't seem to bring myself to actually believe you."

Well, too bad. She was fine. She had suffered worse episodes because of her gift, episodes that had left her catatonic for days. Getting away with a little nose bleed and sore limbs was a blessing in her opinion. He was still regarding her with concern and Izora got the feeling that he was seriously contemplating picking her up and taking her to Hospital Wing himself. She needed to distract him before that happened. Her eyes found her book, discarded on the floor beside a nearby arm chair, and she limply gestured towards it with the hand not currently pressing a wadded up tie to her nose.

"D-d-did y-you r-read it?" Her words already near nonsensical because of her stutter, came out muffled and distorted. Izora blushed lightly. How embarrassing.

Remus shot her a knowing look, but he had the good grace to accept her feeble attempt at distracting him. He twisted around and leaned forward at the waist, the muscles of his shoulders and upper back flexing beneath his button up as he reached for the book. Izora gawped stupidly, mouth falling open a small bit. He turned back around and Izora hurriedly looked up at the ceiling, mentally ordering the blush that heated her face—and her hormones for that matter—to die.

Remus cleared his throat and Izora forced herself to look at him. Luckily, he didn't seem to have noticed her gawking. He smiled crookedly at her and held out the book. She took it from him with her free hand, shifting her legs out of the awkward position they had landed in when she collapsed, crossed them, and rested the book in her lap. She caressed the cover, tracing the runic inscription with her fingertips. Her gift sparked at the back of her mind, but she was ready for it and managed shield her mind from any residual memories the book might have contracted from being in Remus's possession.

"I was about halfway through chapter ten when you can down."

"R-really?" She looked up at him in surprise; it had taken nearly the whole train ride to get even that far. Granted she had a few more distractions—namely his friends—than he did, but still, she was impressed. She looked back down at the book, flipping the cover open, and running her fingers along the smooth page. "Y-you m-m-must b-be a fa-fast re-reader."

"Not really." He replied with a modest shrug and a nod to the book in her lap. "It's a good book. Very easy to fall into."

Izora couldn't disagree with that. She looked up from the page and found him studying her curiously, amber eyes reflecting the light of the fire. She blushed and looked back a down, clearing her throat awkwardly. She heard him shifting and, chancing a peek, saw him crossing his legs and leaning back on his palms, looking up at the ceiling. She couldn't tell for sure, but she thought she saw a blush on his cheeks.

"How is your nose?" He asked after several minutes of silence had passed.

Izora pulled the tie from her face and gently tested for fresh blood with her fingers. When the pale digits came away clear, she sighed quietly in relief. "B-better." She held up his tie when he glanced her way. "Th-thank y-you, f-for l-letting m-me u-use th-this."

"You're welcome." He smiled kindly then gestured towards her face with a hand, "Would you, um, like me to get rid of the blood?"

Izora blushed brightly, somehow having forgotten that there was most likely dried blood all over the lower half of her face. Trying to stave off anymore mortified embarrassment, she shook her head. "N-no, th-thank you. I-I c-can d-do i-it."

Remus nodded in understanding and kindly looked away from her as she pulled her wand from the pocket of her sleeping pants. She shot a surreptitious glance at him, flicked her wand at her face, and muttered under her breath, _"Scourgify._"

Since she had her wand out, she pointed it at the bloody tie, and repeated the spell. The blood disappeared from the fabric and she cleared her throat, catching Remus's attention. Without meeting his eyes, she held the tie out to him in one hand, tucking her wand back into her pocket with the other.

"Thank you." Remus took the clean tie and draped it over his neck. Izora noticed that he made sure not to touch her hand.

Another not-quite comfortable silence descended over them and Izora fiddled with the pages of her book, sneaking glances at Remus every few minutes. She could tell he wanted to ask about what had happened to her—she highly doubted he believed her horrible excuse of a _headache_—but he was much too polite to just blurt the question out, something for which Izora was grateful. She glanced at the large clock on the mantel above the fireplace and gasped, her eyes going wide when she saw what time it was.

"It's a-almost f-five o-o'clock!" She scrambled to her feet, nearly dropped her book, and spent a few seconds fumbling with it before she managed to get a good grip on it again. She wasn't exactly sure how long she'd stargazed or how much time she'd lost to her episode, but she _had_ to get back up to her dorm. Lily always woke up at exactly five-thirty in the morning and if Izora wasn't there when she woke up, there would be _questions._

But instead of rushing back up the girls' staircase as fast as she could, Izora stood where she was, shifting from foot to foot and clutching at _The Hobbit_ like her life depended on it. She felt like she should say something to Remus, but she wasn't sure what, so she ended up just standing there and watching Remus like a dolt as he got to his feet with much more grace and dignity than she had.

"I-" Izora faltered, shifted from foot to foot then just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Th-thank y-you f-f-for…f-for t-trying t-to h-help m-me wh-when I…" She made a vague gesture with her hand to indicate what had happened earlier. "A-and th-thank you f-for n-not pr-prying."

She chanced a shy glance at him and found him smiling down at her. She blinked a little disconcertedly, not having noticed just how tall he was until that moment—she was five eleven and he was nearly a head taller than her; Dmitri wasn't even that tall and he was six two.

"You're welcome." He said simply. "And even though I know you didn't do it intentionally, thank you for staying up with me. I…I don't always sleep well."

Curiosity flared inside Izora, but she bit back any questions that might have wanted to spill out of her mouth. He hadn't pried and she wouldn't either. Instead, she bobbed her head in an awkward nod, wished him goodnight, and scurried up the stairs like a frightened rabbit—realizing a little late how silly it was to have wished him a goodnight when it was already morning.

She shook her head, smacked her forehead with her book, and called herself an idiot.

* * *

Lily Evans tended to be a creature of habit; James Potter asked her out, she called him a toe-rag and told to him to leave her alone—even though recently she had begun to secretly enjoy the attention; Marlene breaks up with her latest bloke, Lily brings out the chocolate stash; she gets into an argument with Severus and they stop speaking, she's the first to offer an olive branch; James Potter did something exceptionally stupid with his idiot best mate Sirius Black, Lily yelled, cursed, and, at least since she became a Prefect, gave them detention for it all while trying not to laugh at the dopey look on James' face. Thus when her clock—a magical one she got from Hogsmeade in her third year because muggle ones never worked inside the castle—went off at exactly five-thirty on the first day of classes, her internal alarm had already woken her up.

The redhead let out a quiet groan—just because she had gotten used to waking up early did _not_ mean she was a morning person, in fact, Lily hate mornings nearly as much as she pretended to hate James Potter. She reached out blindly, smacking her bedside table several times before her hand found her clock. She smacked the timepiece, silencing the annoying chirp it was emitting, rolled onto her back, and sat up with a jaw-cracking yawn, stretching her arms above her head.

Lily dropped her arms, gave her face a brisk rub to wake herself up a little more, looked around to check if her alarm had woken any of the other girls, and found Izora Hallowell, already dressed in her uniform, sitting cross-legged on top of her covers and running a comb through her wet hair while she stared at her lap. It really shouldn't have surprised Lily to see the quite blonde already up—they had been sharing a dorm for five, going on six years after all—but it did. Studying the dark, sleep-deprived bruises smudged around the other girl's eyes and the weary set to her mouth, Lily wondered if Izora even slept at all, despite her claim of going to bed the night before.

Sighing softly, Lily tossed her covers off her legs and slipped out of bed. Even if she asked Izora, the redhead doubted she would get more than a small, timid smile and an awkward shrug in response.

"Good morning, Izora." Lily greeted brightly as she made her way to her trunk at the foot of her bed, her nightgown swishing around her knees. The blonde's blue-green eyes flicked towards her briefly and returned to staring at her lap, quietly stuttering out her own greeting.

Lily felt herself deflate a bit and she bit her lip, carefully kneeling in front of her trunk and flipping it open. It saddened her to know that even after five years, Izora still wasn't comfortable with any of her dormmates. Lily, at least, could say she was the closest to Izora, but even she was held at arm's length and treated with caution by the tall blonde. Even so, Lily did her best to be kind to the shy girl, in the hopes that maybe one day she would open up and show everyone that she _wasn't_ just Izora the Rabbit.

Lily grimaced as she thought about the moniker Izora had been given back in their third year by some fifth year boy that had long since graduated. Lily wasn't sure of the exact circumstances that instigated the boy—Mica Edgerton, the redhead recalled—bestowing that horrible name on Izora, and she wasn't sure she even wanted to know. Edgerton had been a right prat and thought he was God's gift to women. Not even Sirius Black was as bad as he had been.

Shaking her head, Lily clambered to her feet with her neatly folded uniform in her arms and made her way to the bathroom to shower and change before breakfast. She paused in the doorway of the loo, shot a quick glance at Izora, and nodded determinedly to herself.

This year, Lily mental promised as she regarded the blonde now slipping into her Mary-Janes for a moment then slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. This year she would befriend Izora.

–––––

Izora glanced up when she heard the bathroom door click shut. She had noticed Lily looking at her with a peculiar expression before the redhead had gone into the loo and Izora felt her stomach tighten with hint of anxiety. She liked Lily, admired her tenacity and outgoing personality, but it also intimidated Izora. Once Lily decided to do something, there was no way to prevent her from accomplishing whatever she had set her mind to. Izora had the unsettling feeling that she'd just become that something.

As if she didn't already have enough problems trying to dissuade the Marauders' attentions, now she might have to fend off Lily Like-A-Dog-With-A-Bone Evans_._ all she wanted was to get through sixth year as quiet and painlessly as possible.

_What a load of crock _that_ desire was turning out to be._

The blonde wrinkled her nose, blew out a breath in an extremely exasperated and martyred manner, looked to the ceiling, and whined dolefully, "Why me?"

She wasn't able to wallow in her self-pity for long. The other three girls were beginning to stir and Draci was dancing in place on her bed, chirring and chattering at her in his weasel-tongue. Izora let out one last sigh of melodramatic misery, running a hand through her hair, slipped on her gloves, put her wand in the pocket of her robe, slipped her school bag over her head, scooped Draci up into her arms, and drudged to the door. The other girls were beginning to stir and Izora wanted to get out of the dorm before any of them woke up. She remembered what had been said about her last night and she wasn't sure if she was willing—or ready, for that matter—to face them yet.

Izora was just opening the dormitory door when Lily, full dressed and brushing her fiery hair, exited the loo in a cloud of steam. The redhead called out to her and Izora froze, her shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. And so it begins.

"Are you heading to breakfast?" Lily asked cheerfully, setting her brush on her bedside table and sitting on her bed to quickly pull on her Mary-Janes. "Do you mind if I join you?"

_Do I really have a choice?_ Izora thought dryly, turning around to face the redhead. Verbally, Izora stuttered out her agreement. "I-If y-you w-w-want t-to L-Lily."

"Marvelous!" Lily chirped. She stood, grabbed her school bag from the ground beside her trunk, and followed Izora out of the dormitory.

The two girls headed down the stairs in silence, walking side-by-side. Izora held herself tensely, holding Draci close to her chest, and stared at her feet as she walked. She tried not to cringe too noticeably whenever Lily was forced to step closer to her but, judging from the sympathetic and apologetic looks the redhead sent her away, Izora wasn't doing a very good try at being inconspicuous. Bugger it.

The relief Izora felt when they finally reached the bottom of the girls' staircase and stepped out into the common room nearly made Izora dizzy. Lily took a few steps forward, turned and looked at her with expectant green eyes. Izora steeled herself to make the short trip from the bottom of the girls' stairs all the way to the portrait hole, adjusted her grip on Draci, and forced her feet forward.

The common room wasn't terribly busy—it was barely six o'clock after all—but there were enough early risers to make Izora uncomfortable and she ducked her head, hiding her face behind the curtain of her hair. Izora and Lily were nearly halfway to the portrait hole when a—sadly—familiar voice hollered from the boys' staircase.

"Izzy!"

Izora froze and hung her head, mentally moaning in dismay. _Why me? Don't the fates have someone else to pick on?_

The blonde chanced a glance at Lily and winced when she saw the look on her fair face; an artful blend of disgust, contempt, and utter loathing. Honestly, if the look was on anyone other than Lily Evans, it would be considered a sneer. Reluctantly, Izora accepted the inevitable confrontation and turned around.

Sirius bounded towards her like an eager puppy, James not even two steps behind him, with an apologetic Remus and a sheepish Peter bringing up the rear.

"Izzy!" Sirius proclaimed theatrically and swooped in a dramatic bow when reached the two girls. He straightened and winked at her playfully, "Lovely Izzy, with eyes like sea-glass and hair like moonlight, you are looking particularly fair this morn!"

The handful of Gryffindors in the common room stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at the spectacle. Izora's face went cherry red. Her eyebrow twitched, she closed her eyes, clenched her teeth, and silently counted to twenty in Romanian.

_You cannot hex Sirius Black. You cannot hex Sirius Black._ She chanted that one sentence to herself like a mantra when she realized that counting wouldn't work. It wasn't working either. In her arms, Draci bared his teeth and growled.

"And you, Evans!" James added just as theatrically as his best mate as he dropped to his knees before Lily and bowed low, "You're beauty rivals the sunrise over a Quidditch pitch and like a fire-haired goddess, you honor us humble peasants with your striking presence. It would bring me the greatest joy to escort you to breakfast."

Standing beside Izora, Lily's face was a similar shade of red, but whereas Izora was blushing with mortified embarrassment, Lily had gone red with fury. She sucked in a deep breath and Izora opened her eyes to glance at her, cringing at the look of utter fury etched into the redhead's pretty face. James Potter was a walking dead man. The bespectacled boy seemed to sense the impending storm because he straightened and regarded her with wary hazel eyes.

"Erm…Alright Evans? Looking a bit peaky there, love."

Izora watched with some morbid fascination as Lily's face became even redder, her angry flush spreading all the way down her neck. She was clenching her jaw so tightly, a single white line on her cheek stood out in sharp relief against the red of her flush. Izora took a small step back, jumped slightly when a warm calloused hand wrapped around her wrist, and tugged her even further away. She turned and met Sirius's laughing grey eyes.

"Best come away from there, dove." He whispered conspiratorially, the laughter she saw in his eyes mirrored in his voice, and he gently led her by the elbow to where Remus and Peter were standing beside the portrait hole. "We wouldn't you to get caught in the crossfire. When James gets Evans going, she gets _going_."

Izora rolled her eyes. She had seen Lily rip into James plenty of times over the years, she knew the levels the redhead's temper could reach. For Morgana's sake, she _lived_ with the girl for nine months of the year! It was always, _"Potter did this!" _and _"Potter did that!"_ and _"I hate that toerag, Potter!" _for nearly the whole school year. Half the time Izora wondered if Lily was actually in love with James and was really just in denial because she didn't know how else to interact with him.

Remus opened the portrait hole and Sirius escorted her out of it just as Lily 'got going' as Sirius said.

"_**POTTER YOU INSUFFERABLE TOERAG!**_"

"Now Evans, let's just-" Remus closed the portrait hole behind him, cutting off the rest of his friend's attempts to placate the she-dragon that was a furious Lily Evans.

Izora was confused. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were just going to leave James to deal with Lily's wrath, instead of helping him or offer moral support? Something? When she stuttered out this question, Sirius looked at her, completely aghast that she would ask such a thing, Remus rubbed the back of his head and looked at the ceiling, and Peter awkwardly cleared his throat before answering in his shy voice.

"Normally we would have James's back, but when it's a row with Evans, well…" He trailed off, held his arms out slightly, and shrugged.

"It's every man, woman, and child for themselves." Sirius finished, sliding his arm around her shoulders and guiding her down the stairs to the Entrance Hall. Izora didn't even bother to protest, just wearily accepted the action as inevitable. "Evans can be a right scary bi-" Remus pointedly cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at Izora. Sirius changed what he was going to say without missing a beat, "Woman. Evans can be a right scary _woman_. And I, personally, like all my parts right where they are and fully functioning. James may enjoy being emasculated by that she-devil, but the rest of us certainly don't."

Izora arched a brow and gave him a droll look that clearly said she thought he was full of it, but other than that, she refrained from commenting. They quartet continued down several flights of stairs in silence until Sirius finally opened his mouth once again.

"By the way, Izzy." He waved a lazy hand to the bundle of fur she held. "What is _that_ exactly?"

Draci bared his teeth at the young man and Izora stroked the top his head soothingly as she replied. "Th-this is D-Draci."

"But what _is_ it?" Sirius repeated, warily eying the little beast curled up in the blonde's arm, looking as docile as a kitten except for the fact that it was looking at him like it wanted to bite him, beady, jet-black eyes predatory. Sirius grimaced, showing the beast the edge of his teeth. "Other than a little beasty."

Draci barked, hissed, and growled angrily, thrashing in Izora's arms. Izora shot Sirius a look, and cuddled Draci against her chest, shushing and quietly cooing nonsensically to him.

"D-don't l-listen t-to h-him, D-D-Draci." She cooed, scratching the pine marten's ears. "H-he's j-just j-jealous th-that y-y-your c-cuter th-than h-h-him."

"What?!" Sirius made several loud incoherent noises of disbelief, looking Peter and Remus and gesturing at Izora in a 'Can you _believe_ this codswallop?' manner. Remus heaved out a long suffering sigh from beside Sirius while Peter, walking on Izora's other side, cracked up at the expression on his friend's face.

"So, what is he, Izzy?" The shortest of the Marauders questioned through his quiet chortles. He held his hand out to Draci, letting the pine marten sniff him warily before allowing Peter to scratch his ears. "Looks a bit like a weasel to me."

–––––

"C-Close. H-He's an E-European p-pine ma-marten, p-part o-of th-the m-mustelid f-f-family l-like a w-weasel." The blonde's voice was fond as she petted the little beasty in her arms, smiling lightly when it seemed to purr, settling happily in her arms.

Sirius cleared his throat pointedly, but Izora and Peter ignored him and continued to talk quietly about the blonde's familiar. His expression became mildly indignant at being ignored in favor of a _weasel_ of all things, although he could understand Peter's fascination with the creature; of the four of them, he was the aspiring magizoologist. He hadn't found a creature he didn't want to study or have as a pet. As for Izora ignoring him in favor of her furry beast, well now that was just _rude_.

Remus caught the look on his friend's face and rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Sirius. "Leave it, Pads."

"But Mooooony." Sirius whined, stretching out the nickname and pouting exaggeratedly at his tall friend. He gestured towards Izora and Peter, still cooing over the weasel. "They're ignoring me for a bloody _weasel_. And Izzy said it was cuter than me!"

Said beast caught him looking and bared its sharp little teeth. Sirius growled at it then yelped when Remus smacked the back of his head.

"Knock it off, git."

"Not you too, Moony!" Sirius moaned, rubbing the back of his head. He threw his arms in the air and crossed them petulantly. "I want James. James loves me." He shot an evil look at the creature in Izora's arms and harrumphed. "He wouldn't choose a _weasel_ over me like you lot."

"Pine marten." Peter corrected with a cheerful grin.

"_Shove it_, Wormy."

"Don't mind him, Izzy." Peter said conspiratorially to Izora, much to Sirius's chagrin. "He has issues when people don't pay attention to him."

"Yes," Remus added, raspy voice mirthful. He smiled when she looked at him and continued in an offhand manner, while ignoring the indignant sounds his friend was currently making. "He's like a puppy really. Always nipping at your heels then sulking when you ignore him."

The blonde giggled, biting her lip to keep from smiling at the mutinous look Sirius sent his two friends. "Oh, piss off." He scowled at them and stomped ahead, shouting over his shoulder. "Bloody wankers, both of you!"

"Come now, Pads." Remus called at his retreating back with laughter in clear his voice. He winked playfully at Izora and smiled when she giggled again. "If you come back, I'll give you a treat."

Sirius swore loudly and colorfully from up ahead and turned around, making a very rude gesture in their direction. Peter and Remus merely laughed loudly. Izora shook her head and bit her lip to keep joining them, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

They certainly were a curious bunch.

–––––

By the time Izora and the two quieter Marauders reached the doors of the Great Hall, Sirius was already there, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and a brooding expression on his face. He glared when he saw them, but as they drew closer his lips began to twitch and he shook his head, obviously trying very hard not to smile. Remus moved away from Izora's side to clap his friend on the shoulder, whispering something that she couldn't hear to him. Sirius shook his head, tossed it back with a bark of laughter, and punched Remus's arm. Peter wandered over to them and Sirius wrapped an arm around his neck and playfully ruffled his blonde head, laughing when Peter swatted at him.

And just like that, all was well between them.

Izora shook her head in slight amazement. They really were an odd bunch. She had seen Galen and Dmitri resolve any conflicts—whether it be from an actual fight or if one of them took their teasing too far—they had in a similar manner, but Izora had to admit, if only to herself, that the three boys in front of her seemed far closer than her two best friends did. Izora shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts and shuffled towards the boys, edging past them and heading towards the Hufflepuff table.

"Where're you going, Izzy-dove?" Sirius popped up next to her, slinging his arm over her shoulders once again—he seemed to be a very touch oriented person, Izora noted to herself with a small grimace. At least the sleeve of his robe and her own school robe kept him from touching her skin.

"T-to th-the H-Hufflepuff t-t-table." Izora replied as Peter fell in step with her to her left, Remus ambling along next to Sirius. It would seem they were tagging along. Joy.

"To sit with your bloke Ţepeş, yeah?" Sirius asked. Izora reluctantly nodded in the affirmative and he grinned impishly. "Brilliant! We'll join you."

"Sirius," Remus sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head at his friend's sometimes presumptuous nature. "At least ask Izora if it's alright that we join her and her friend."

"Of course it's alright." Sirius exclaimed, scandalized that his friend would even suggest that Izora didn't want to be in their scintillating company. He looked at Izora and arched his brows expectantly. "Isn't that right, Izzy-dove?"

"W-w-well…"

"See, Moony, she doesn't mind." Sirius cut her off and began dragging her towards the Hufflepuff table. He spotted Ţepeş and bellowed loudly, "Oi! Ţepeş!"

Dmitri jerked his head up, looked over at Izora and the three Marauders coming towards him and narrowed his eyes. And her best friend wasn't the only that turned at Sirius' shout. Izora went bright red and closed her eyes in mortification. She fervently wished the ground would swallow her whole now more than ever as the other students that were up this early stopped talking and turned to stare.

Izora opened her eyes and met Dmitri's bemused and mildly irritated gaze with a doleful one of her own. _What the bloody hell are they doing? _His dark eyes demanded and Izora widened her eyes at him in reply, _Save me, I can't get rid of them._

Dmitri rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in resignation. Sirius skidded to a stop beside Dmitri, catching Izora easily when she stumbled from the abrupt halt. She wiggled out of his hold, dropped down beside her best friend, placed Draci on her lap, and folded her arms on the table, dropping her head on them. She made a pathetic kitten noise that had Dmitri patting her back and glaring at the three Marauders irately.

"Morning, mate." Sirius greeted in an overly cheerful manner and landed on the bench on the Hufflepuff's other side. He smirked smugly at the dark look Dmitri sent him.

James, grinning widely and looked flustered after running all the way from Gryffindor common room to the Great Hall, landed on the bench across from Sirius and beside Peter, who had sat next to Remus. His hazel eyes were bright with exhilaration behind his spectacles and he ran a hand through his already wild hair as he greeted everyone cheerfully.

"Lovely morning isn't, mates?"

Dmitri slanted a look at Izora, looking rather exasperated at having his table invaded; his lips were pursed in a noticeable scowl and his dark eyes were narrowed very slightly in annoyance. He arched an eyebrow at her and Izora leaned towards him.

"Lily E-Evans." She murmured and nodded towards the decidedly miffed—and slightly pleased looking—redhead taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, explaining James's jubilance. Lily looked up, noticed Izora and Dmitri's scrutiny, and waved lightly in their direction, giving Izora a bright, and a bit strained, smile.

Dmitri made a face that _might_ have been considered a smile if not for the mordant edge to it will Izora smiled tentatively beside him before looking down at her still empty breakfast plate. Ignoring his own plateful of breakfast, Dmitri folded his hands on the table and leaned forward, glancing around at the four Marauders with narrowed eyes.

"What, exactly, are you four doing at my house table? Not that your company isn't enjoyable." He added sarcastically. "But shouldn't you be over _there_?" He motioned towards the Gryffindor table with a lazy flick of his hand.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sirius quipped from beside the lanky Hufflepuff, resting his elbow on the table and leaning his cheek against his fist. He smirked and nodded towards Izora when Dmitri glanced at him. "We're eating breakfast with our new friend, Izzy."

"Izzy?" Galen's deep Scottish brogue echoed from behind the blonde and she twisted around, smiling brightly at him. Galen returned her smile briefly before fixing the suddenly silent Marauders with a curious, affable look. He glanced down at Izora with laughing eyes. "Bringing home strays are you, luv?"

Almost simultaneously the four Marauders reacted; James snorted and choked on a laugh, nearly spewing the pumpkin juice he'd just taken a sip of; Sirius made strangled, unintelligible sounds that might have been words; Remus closed his eyes, bowed his head as his shoulders shook with silent laughter; and Peter dropped his head onto the table, jerking spasmodically every few seconds, quiet snorts escaping him.

Izora, Dmitri, and Galen exchanged perplexed looks before looking back at the four twitching boys. Izora observed them for another moment then responded to Galen's, admittedly rhetorical, question.

"N-Not by ch-choice." Izora stuttered out drily, shooting a pointed look at James then Sirius—both boys stopped making curious sounds, briefly grinned at her unrepentantly and shot faintly murderous looks at Galen. "Th-they w-won't l-leave m-me al-alone."

"Ah." Galen murmured, still eying the four Gryffindors. He sat down on Izora's left, placed a quick kiss to her cheek, and reached for a slice of toast, buttering it quickly and placing it on her plate. "Eat your breakfast, Zora."

On her other side, Dmitri absently spooned a helping of scrambled eggs onto her plate, still glowering at James, Sirius, Peter, and Remus for invading his table. Izora smiled—her friends knew her so well—and picked up the slice of toast, nibbling on it delicate as Draci sat up in her lap and snitched some eggs from her plate.

Her amusement was short lived however, as James and Sirius got over their stupor at a _Slytherin_ sitting with them.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Sirius demanded, leaning forward to glare at Galen around Dmitri's lanky form. His grey eyes, laughing and full of impish delight a minute ago, were now dark and full of loathing. He pointed his fork at the burly Slytherin. "Your type isn't welcome here."

"Oh?" Galen questioned mildly, buttering his own slice of toast. He tilted his head and smiled congenially. "I was under the impression that this was the Hufflepuff table _not_ the Gryffindor one. And besides," He added offhandedly, "I'm not sitting with _you_ lot. I'm sitting with my mates, Zora and Dmitri."

"You're friends with a Slytherin?" James demanded and Izora almost quailed under the accusing look he sent her way.

_Almost_.

Izora may act like a frightened rabbit most of the time, but don't ever, _ever _insult her friends. The blonde straightened, squaring her shoulders, lifted her chin and glared at James defiantly.

"Y-Yes. Wh-what o-of it?"

–––––

Remus hid a smile as his friends exchanged stunned, disbelieving looks. He had to admit, he was a bit surprised at the ferocity in the timid blonde's tone. The way she glared at James and Sirius, her blue-green eyes flickering between them, dared them to object to her choice in friends.

Sirius took a deep breath and Remus knew he was raring to have a go at Izora. He decided to cut his friend off at the pass before he did something he would later regret and kicked Sirius's shin under the table. His friend jerked and swore, scowling at Remus. The scarred Marauder merely smiled innocently then turned his attention to Galen, Izora, and Dmitri. His smile died slightly at the wary looks they were giving him and his friends, but he didn't let that deter him.

"So how long have you three been friends?" Remus asked politely, but also with genuine curiosity. He knew from James, Sirius, and Peter's recollection of the train ride that Dmitri and Izora had been friends since first year and he was interested in knowing if the two of them had been friends with the burly Slytherin for just as long.

Dmitri snorted quietly and took a bit of his food while beside him Izora let out a breath of relief and looked down at her plate, picking at her eggs with her fork. Remus hid another smile, keeping his expression polite and affable as he regarded the Slytherin sitting across from him. Remus was acutely aware of the silent conversation his three friends were currently having around him, but he didn't looking away from Galen.

Galen looked back at him with an unreadable expression, his green eyes speculative. After apparently weighing the pros and cons of answering, the Scot finally spoke. "We've been friends since first year."

"And what's a Slytherin doing making friends with a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor?" James asked frankly. He didn't like Slytherins and he took every opportunity available to hex them, but he wasn't quite as prejudice against them as Sirius—who loathed everything and anything about the house—was.

"W-w-we m-met on th-the tr-train." Izora explained quietly, eyes focused downward as she fed a bit of egg to her pine marten. "B-before we w-were s-s-sorted."

"And you just stayed mates?" Peter asked, sounding equal parts surprised and impressed. "Even though you were Sorted into different houses."

"Well why bloody not?" Dmitri grumped with a scowl. Peter cringed slightly, looking down at his plate, and Izora nudged Dmitri with her shoulder, shooting him a disapproving look that had him rolling his eyes and scoffing.

The blonde looked at Peter with a small kind, if a little tentative, smile. "Th-the h-houses d-don't d-define wh-who y-y-you a-a-are."

It was an incredibly open-minded thing to say and Remus found himself nodding slightly in agreement. Peter was smiling hesitantly, hopefully and even James was looking rather thoughtful as he ate his food. Remus glanced at Galen and Dmitri and found them regarding the blonde sitting between them with fond expressions, though Dmitri's was also a little exasperated.

"I hate to break it to you, dove, but they kind of do." Sirius drawled, once again leaning his cheek against his fist in a bored manner. He looked at her with a sort of smug, patronizing expression and waved his fork in the air. "Why do you think I'm in Gryffindor when the rest of my family is in Slytherin?"

Remus sighed and shook his head wearily. "Sirius."

Sirius glanced at him and took a bite of his breakfast, shrugging his shoulders. "What? I'm not wrong, Moony. Every student is Sorted into their house based on their core traits, and Slytherins," He shot a pointed look at Galen, who smiled in an unfriendly manner, an odd expression his usually pleasant visage. Sirius sneered back. "Slytherins are known for being rotten."

"A-and y-yet, Galen h-has d-done n-n-nothing t-to y-you, wh-while y-you've d-done no-nothing but at-attack h-him." Izora stated quietly. She kept her eyes downcast, idly stroking Draci's ears as she mused serenely. "I-I w-wonder wh-who tr-truly is th-the r-rotten o-one h-here?"

Izora's expression remained serene and she asked Peter to pass to the coffee carafe, "C-Could y-you pa-pass the c-c-coffee, P-Peter?"

Everything was silent between the two groups of friends for several moments, with nobody moving or daring to speak. Sirius opened and closed his mouth several times before he scowled fiercely when he realized he could say nothing to really refute her remark. She was right after all; he was being the rotten one. He growled and crossed his arms, sulking.

Dmitri outright cackled at the expression on his face, Galen smiled mildly without looking up from his breakfast, Remus snorted into his cup of coffee as he was taking a sip, Peter sniggered around a mouthful of food and passed Izora the carafe of coffee like she asked, and James threw his head back in a deep belly-laugh.

"I think you've been had _again_, mate." The bespectacled boy chortled.

"Oh _shove it_." Sirius huffed reproachfully, kicking his best friend under the table. James yelped, but continued to laugh at Sirius's expense, even when Sirius kicked him again. His irritation didn't last long though and soon he was smiling rather ruefully, shaking his head and laughing under his breath.

"Alright, alright, I'll admit that she's not exactly _wrong_. But," Sirius leaned around Dmitri to playfully poke her shoulder—she swatted at him—nodding towards Galen. "I still stand by that _most _Slytherins are rotten."

"Most of them are, mate." Galen agreed easily, shrugging one broad shoulder and taking a bite of his tattie scone. "The purebloods especially, but I like to think the rest of us 'mudbloods'," He rolled his eyes at the slur frequently tossed his way by his pureblood housemates. "Are a little different."

–––––

"You're not a pureblood?"

Izora slanted a glance at her friend as she sipped her coffee. Galen's expression was completely at ease as he replied matter-of-factly to James's surprised question.

"Half-blood actually. Ma's a muggle." The Slytherin gestured at Izora and Dmitri with his fork, "Those two are the purebloods."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Dmitri groaned, grimacing. "My grandmother would _not_ shut up about how my parents need to marry me off to some bird from a 'respectable, untarnished family' before it was too late. Wretched old hag, that woman."

"That is your grandmother you're talking about, Dmitri." Galen chided his friend half-heartedly. He couldn't exactly dispute his friend's claim; his mother's mother really was a wretched woman and she quite despised Galen and Izora—despite the blonde being a pureblood herself.

"M-Mother got a l-letter fr-from her over th-the s-summer." Izora commented, wrinkling her nose as she remembered Elizaveta Tsareva's owl—a nasty creature that always tried to peck at Izora's fingers, but adored her mother. "She w-wanted to p-propose a-a-arranging a m-marriage between u-us."

Dmitri's expression became pinched, as if he'd eaten something sour or smelled something foul. "Lovely."

"That would certainly be an interesting match." Galen snickered, laughing loudly when Dmitri gave him a dirty look and Izora smacked him.

The Marauders exchanged confused looks, not really understanding the utterly disgusted expressions Dmitri's face and the disgruntled one on Izora's. Sirius especially was rather confused; Izora wasn't a terrible looking girl—even if she could stand to gain a few pounds—and Sirius could think of several worse options if he were being forced to marry someone. His crazy cousin Bellatrix readily came to mind.

"What's so wrong with marrying Izzy?" James asked and hurried to explain when the strange trio looked at him. "She's not my type of anything—I prefer redheads myself—but she's not exactly bad looking."

"Th-thanks, I th-think." Izora deadpanned, giving James a flat look. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"Yes, yes, she's quite lovely." Dmitri said impatiently and he viciously stabbed at a sausage link on his plate. "But you four blokes don't know Zora like Galen and I do. She's shirty."

"Shirty? Our Izzy?" James shook his head in disbelief, ignoring Dmitri's outraged growl of _"Your Izzy?"_ as he eyed the blonde. "No, I don't believe it. She's so…so…

"Quiet?" Peter suggested.

"Timid?" Sirius threw in, "Skittish? Like a little rabbit?"

"Yes!" James exclaimed, pointing his fork at his best friend, "Like a rabbit. Good one, Pads."

Sirius smirked smugly, looking quite proud of himself. Remus covered his eyes with hand and shook his head, sighing. "Idiots the lot of you."

Izora's eyes narrowed, her hand tightening around her fork as she glared at the three young men. She contemplated kicking them but Galen spoke before she could really decide on whether to do so or not.

"A rabbit, you say?" He shook his head and wrapped a muscular arm around Izora's shoulders, squeezing gently. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. She may seem like a demure little lass most of the time, but it's just an act. Trust me, Zora is as fierce as a bear when she gets riled up. She would chew Dmitri up and spit him out within a week of _engagement_."

"I resent what you're implying there."

"Only because you know it's true."

Sirius tilted his head skeptically, studying Izora around Dmitri as he bickered with Galen. "I don't think I can see it. No offense to you, Izzy."

"Keep bothering her and you will." Dmitri muttered under his breath, grunting when Izora elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a reproachful look. She was trying to get the four to leave her alone, she didn't Dmitri encouraging them to do the exact opposite of that.

The conversation came to a halt when McGonagall appeared with several leafs of parchment in her hand. She eyed the four Marauders and frowned severely at them to which James and Sirius grinned innocently, Peter cowered slightly but smiled tentatively, and Remus inclined his head politely.

"Misters Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew, what a surprise it is to see you not at your own house's table this morning." The Transfiguration professor stated flatly, shuffling the parchment in her hands.

"And a good morning to you too, Minnie." Sirius flirted outrageously, grey eyes wicked with humor. "You look ravishing as always."

McGonagall gave him a look that had absolutely no effect on him. "Should I inform Mr. Filch that you will be joining him for a detention, Mr. Black? It is only the first day of classes, but I'm sure he'd just be delighted to have your company this evening."

"That won't be necessary, Professor." Sirius replied with feigned gravitas, the flirty act gone almost instantly. "As wonderful as our dear caretaker's company is, I'm afraid I'll have to pass this time. Though I suppose spending an evening with you wouldn't be so terrible a chore."

James snickered and she turned her stern gaze on him, "And you as well, Mr. Potter. Mr. Filch also quite enjoys your company." He shook his head quickly and McGonagall sniffed. "Very well then. Here are your schedules for the term." She handed the Marauders four leafs of parchment then turned her attention to Izora. "And your schedule, Miss Hallowell."

"Th-thank you, P-Professor." Izora murmured, accepting her timetable from her head of house with a shy, timid smile.

McGonagall nodded stiffly and walked away, heading towards the Gryffindor table to continue passing out timetables. The Hufflepuff head of house, Professor Sprout came and gave Dmitri his timetable a few minutes after McGonagall left, amiably greeting the five Gryffindors—sounding quite surprised as she greeted the four Marauders—and the lone Slytherin sitting at her table before moving on. Professor Slughorn, the Slytherin Head of House, came and went as well and soon the seven teens were poring over their timetables.

Galen checked his watch and, tucking his timetable into his satchel, he stood up. "I better head off if I want to make it to class on time. I still need to show some of the muggleborn first years to their classes."

"I'll head out with you." Dmitri stood up, shouldering his school bag and picking up a slice of toast. He grimaced in a pained manner. "I have to go make sure Belladonna is actually awake."

Galen and Izora exchanged amused looks—Belladonna Tookins was Dmitri's not-quite girlfriend that he claimed to not have any feelings for whatsoever despite all the evidence to the contrary. Galen shook his head and placed a quick kiss to the top of Izora's blonde head.

"See you in class, luv."

"S-See you b-both." Izora replied, watching them leave before looking back at her timetable.

She was in the process of studying it when it was suddenly and abruptly snatched from her hands. She shot an annoyed frown at James. He grinned unapologetically, turned to Sirius, who had switched to the other side of the table at some point, and began whispering as they compared her timetable to theirs.

Izora rolled her eyes slightly and poked at the food left over on her plate with her fork. She'd pretty much resigned herself to being stuck with those two idiots. There had been a certain gleam in James and Sirius's eyes when Galen had made that ridiculous comment about her being as fierce as bear—a gleam that did not bode well for Izora's plan to get them to leave her alone.

Remus gave her an apologetic look from across the table, his timetable having also been confiscated by his two mates. "Sorry about them. They have boundary issues, I'm afraid."

"We do not, Moony!"

"Yes, you do." Remus replied calmly to James and Sirius's indignant shouts without looking at them. Next to him, Peter sniggered and ended up getting swatted by James before he was lured into his and Sirius' whispered conversation.

Reluctantly, Izora felt the corner of her mouth tug up into a half smile. Despite Galen and Dmitri being a little more reserved in the Marauders' presence, she could see certain similarities between her friends' interactions and the way the four Gryffindor boys acted around each other. Of course she would never say so to James or Sirius, or even Dmitri.

The thought still made her laugh internally.

"You and Galen seem close."

Remus's voice pulled her from her humorous train of thought and she refocused on him, blushing slightly at the amused expression on his scarred face. Looking at him, Izora found herself thinking about the vision she had the other night after accidently touching his fingers. Her skin prickled, she rubbed her cheek absently with a gloved hand, once again feeling phantom slashes, a whisper of pain and the faint coppery smell of blood that made her grimace and wince a bit.

"Izora?"

She blinked, Remus's raspy voice once again pulling her from her thoughts, and she forced herself to refocus. Remus was smiling unsurely, his brows furrowed marginally in concern as he regarded her.

"Are you alright?" He asked kindly, pale haggard face the picture of friendly concern.

"Hmm?" Izora blinked rapidly a few times, shook her head, and cleared her throat, a blush staining her pale cheeks for the millionth time. "Y-Yes, I-I'm f-fine. Wh-What d-d-did y-you s-say a-a-again?"

Remus continued to regard her with concern, but after a moment he repeated his question. "You and Galen, you two seem rather close."

"Oh, y-yes we a-are." Izora rubbed her forehead, frowning slightly at the throbbing that had started between her eyes. Headaches weren't uncommon for her, but they were still rather aggravating. She cleared her throat again and returned her attention to Remus. What were they talking about again? Oh yes, her and Galen, right, that was it.

"H-He's my b-b-best f-fr-friend."

"You're just friends?" Remus said in surprise then blushed and coughed into his fist, hurrying to continue. "I-I mean, you two seem very, er…That is to say, you seem rather affectionate with each other, and I assumed…" He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, slouching slightly and avoiding her eyes.

He looked up when Izora laughed quietly, the sound light and airy. He smiled sheepishly, embarrassment still warming his face. "Sorry."

Izora waved his apology away, still smiling slightly. "I-It's fine, r-r-really. Y-y-you're n-not the f-first t-to m-make th-that a-assumption."

Remus nodded and asked hesitantly, "I don't mean to pry, but are you? Together, I mean."

"N-No." Izora replied quietly. She lowered her eyes and fiddled Draci's ears, the pine marten curled up contentedly in her lap after eating his fill from her plate. "H-He…G-Galen, w-well, h-has th-three y-younger b-brothers, so h-he s-s-sees m-me as th-the s-sister he n-n-never h-had."

Galen was seven years older than the eldest of his three younger brothers; he was used to being an older brother at this point. Dmitri was already a younger brother and Izora was an only child, so when it came to the dynamics of their little trio, Galen had just fallen into the role that came naturally to him and that's the way it had stayed.

"H-he's also a v-very d-demonstrative p-p-person." Izora continued quietly, explaining the little touches and kisses Galen had bestowed on her during breakfast. And it was true, her burly friend was very touch-oriented, much like Sirius appeared to be, and to outsiders it may seem that his touches were flirty, even intimate, but they were actually completely platonic. It was just the way Galen was.

Remus nodded in understanding; James and Sirius could be like that as well. There was an inordinate amount of physical contact with James especially; he was almost constantly grabbing people by the arms, ruffling Remus's or Peter's hair, knocking shoulders with them and Sirius, putting his friends in headlocks, and the like. It was just the way he was. Sirius had a similar affliction, but to a lesser extent.

He mentioned all of this to Izora in a tone that was both exasperated and fond and the blonde laughed quietly again.

"Oi! What are you two flirting about over there?" Sirius demanded loudly, drawing several people's attention to him and causing Remus and Izora to flush in embarrassment. He looked at Izora with a hurt expression and put a hand over his heart. "Really, Izzy I thought we had something, something special and here I find you dallying with one of my best mates. And _you, _Moony, I never imagined you would be the one to steal a girl from me."

Izora went even redder and she hid her face behind her hands, shaking her head and silently calling Sirius ever nasty name she knew. Sirius grinned before yelping after Remus reached over and smacked him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for, Moony?"

"For being a git."

Sirius sulked, rubbing the back of his head with a petulant pout. James and Peter laughed at his expense and Sirius scowled at them, kicking at their shins under the table. Izora peeked out from between her fingers when Remus let out a martyred sigh. He rolled his eyes heavenward before looking back at Izora and gesturing to his friends in a 'See what I put up with?' manner. She giggled quietly and blushed when he smiled at her.

"Hey, Izzy, guess what?" James exclaimed exuberantly before he clambered to his feet, jumped onto the table top, hopped back down, and dropped onto the bench beside her. He waved her timetable in front of her face and she went slightly cross-eyed. "We're in all your classes except Ancient Ruins, Arthimacy, and History of Magic which you have with just Moony, the swot."

"And Astronomy." Sirius added helpfully, following James's lead and hopping onto the table before landing in the seat to her left. "Why would you want to take that class anyway? It's complete rubbish."

"I-I like th-the s-stars." Izora replied curtly, snatching her timetable from James's hand and stuffing it into the pocket of her robes. She picked Draci up, grabbed her satchel from the ground by her feet, allowing the marten to climb inside the school bag, and shouldered the worn leather bag as she stood up. "I-If y-you'll e-excuse m-me, I-I'd l-like t-t-to g-get t-to c-class n-now."

"We'll walk you with you." Sirius stated and got to his feet. James mimicked him on Izora's other side, snatching Sirius's school bag from the floor and tossing it to him before he clambered over the table to get his own bag.

Sirius tossed the strap of his satchel over his shoulder, slung his arm over Izora's shoulder and began leading her to the doors of the Great Hall. James fell in step with them a second later, walking on Izora's other side and looping his arm through hers. Remus and Peter joined them soon after, Peter walking beside James while Remus fell in line with Sirius, the tall teen shooting another apologetic look at Izora.

Izora merely rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed in weary resignation. She saw her plan to keep the four boys at a distance crumbling before her very eyes and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The Marauders, James and Sirius especially, seemed to be an unstoppable force and unfortunately for Izora—and much to her chagrin—she was _not_ an immovable object.

This year was certainly going to be an eventful one that was for sure.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hope everyone likes the chapter! One of my guest reviews as about a reference picture for Galen and Dmitri, which I have posted on TGWCBT's tumblr (the link can be found on my profile), but for those of you don't have a tumblr, I've dreamcasted Galen as _Taylor Kitsch_, but with short hair and dark brown eyes while Dmitri has been dreamcasted as a young _Luke Evans_ just taller with longer hair and black eyes. Of course, I am taking suggestions for those two, so if you have someone else in mind let me know =D**

**BIG THANKS to everyone that faved, alerted, and reviewed. You guys are awrsome!**

**Anonymous/Guest Review Replies:**

**Tiffy: **I'm glad you liked the second chapter! I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

**Anon Guest: **Hope you like this chapter!

**KJ: **Thank you, I'm glad you like the story. Reference pics can be found on this story's tumblr and the link to that is on my profile.

**AbcdJeff: **Haha, I'd say sorry, but I love when I can expand people's vocabulary. I'm glad you like the story and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**PS - I'm updating from mtmy tablet, so please forgive any mistakes.**


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